Unacquainted (NXR)
by Vergil's Inferno
Summary: A typical story of contrasting neighbours and one night that gets out of hand on their own accord. Nero X Reader fluffy smut – not much of a story as it is a glimpse of the demon between the sheets. Disclaimer: Nero belongs to Capcom – for the purpose of this story and plot, he belongs to you.
1. Dinner

To some extent, you were glad you were a hermit; Friday evening had rolled around in all its green glory, the noises and students wreaking havoc around campus could not have come quicker. It was his last class for the day and all the early birds took it upon themselves to disrupt the other side of campus, the side that could afford a break once in a while, but never in their wildest dreams would they disturb the engineering faculty. On account that the buildings were so far away from the rest of them, this faculty was considered the geeky one, housing students who derived pleasure from their own pain in sitting through countless hours of drawings and tutorials from the most dreary of lecturers probably anticipating a good snug with their pet once they arrived home. Gods forbid they didn't need more on their plate.

You didn't belong to this faculty but the lecturers let you sit in, permitting the request of their favourite student and the only one giving them an ear when the remainder of the class couldn't wait for that clock to finally strike five; Nero had been your friend since you were three, taking the place of the friend you had next door when he had moved in, and the rest was history. Every afternoon was either spent at his place or yours, cramming in homework and studies as your parents managed to wean you both into the same class from primary to secondary school, and now at the same college as neighbours once again – it was an obscenely difficult task to find a place to both of your liking and for the flat next door to be open as well, but nothing would stop your father's negotiation skills when it came to his daughter's needs. He saw a change in you since Nero arrived, one he welcomed with open arms at what a fine woman you had turned into because of him; true, you had worked hard on your own and achieved more than what you had set out to, obtaining a scholarship with not so much a cent paid by your parents for your studies, but Nero brought that distinctive happiness that came by once in a blue moon, the type you never easily give up on at a moment's glance simply because it was so rare. As a result your parents got along with his swimmingly, spending as much time as they could to foster a friendship similar to the ones their kin had.

You had your tablet in your hands, stealing glimpses of your best friend hard at work to complete the task set out by his teacher who smelled of bourbon and oatmeal. You had counted your lucky stars on the day that you met; at the tender age of five he was an adorable creamy bowl of ice cream with your favourite sprinkles on top that had grown into a breathtakingly handsome man every girl on campus wanted to take a chunk out of: reaching at a healthy height of six feet on the dot, every proportion of his body fit him to the T; the strong, broad shoulders capable of holding the weight of the world; the muscled chest gathering into a small, equally tantalising waist that held no shame being on display whatsoever; those legs that could stretch for days on end clothed only by the tightest denim; and obviously not forgetting the mop of glistening silver hair that had every female begging him for his care routine, none of them believing it was his natural hair colour. What really got the entire campus on his side, however, was the unusual right arm he carried with him: you knew the true story about the countless experimentations, how he was actually born without one and somehow made the perfect candidate for their research and proving to be the only successful result out of the entire pool. You wouldn't dare tell the tale to his closest of friends, but it had made him more popular since day one, the rest of the students not giving a damn where the abnormality came from but only that it existed on such a fine specimen.

Nero was the best thing to happen to you; not only did he know just what to say when you were in your moods, upset at the world for no apparent reason, but being cuddled in that amazing grasp of his, digging your face and hands into his chest while he pulled you close harboured enough mushiness to end world war three. He never took kindly to seeing you hurt, regardless of the reason being justified or nauseatingly stupid, and would do anything in his power to keep from any tears falling out of those eyes of yours. He was a saint in disguise, one call away from picking you up from a party you really didn't see yourself going to in the first place, to saving you from a possible romp in the sheets with a complete stranger that you would definitely regret come early morning. He may even go so far as to kiss you deeply in front of any stalking prey, rightfully stamping his scent on marked territory and take you home, taking your car and apologising the entire drive for not being their sooner or even going with you to prevent something like this from happening.

Because, you see, you were each other's first. You couldn't speak for him but he was your first and only, and what a fucking night it was. He had missed your eighteenth, a shindig you had hoped to spend alone in front of your gaming console beating the living crap out of supernatural monsters with an arsenal of swords in your wake, but your parents insisted you not be alone for it, inviting you to their home a couple of miles down the road for a night of death by chocolate cake and coffee. Nero said he would be there to keep you company and you found yourself unable to enjoy it without him; for whatever the reason, you deduced the task occupying his time to be really important, so you stashed all expectation of him arriving to the back of your head and grabbed at the bottle of flavoured vodka your parents set out for you to finish for the night. All you remembered was your father carrying you up the stairs to your bed, your mom tucking you in and laughing at your request for a family sized pizza before it all went black.

The throbbing began at two in the morning, waking you from a makeshift night's sleep in the best way possible – cotton mouth and a migraine. You wanted to scream at the burn in your lungs but you fought against it, clutching at two ice packs from the bar fridge/freezer next to your bed and setting one on your head and the other on your chest. _It won't work_ , you tell yourself over and over again, but the cold is nice on your blazing skin. All you wanted to do was call him and ask what to do, what medicine to take or what tea to drink to quell everything you were feeling at that particular moment, including the void that Nero had made not coming to your party. _It's okay. He was busy and it was far away._ But he'd promised; he had yet to break a promise to you.

And he didn't – a small knock on your balcony door made you turn, the moonlight giving away his shadow almost instantly. The pain in your body subsided as you struggled to the door, walking as slow and as fast as your frame would allow and reaching it panting in exhaustion, unlocking it and coming face to face with your next door neighbour. He peeked into your room so as to not disturb another form hidden between the sheets of the bed, wondering why on earth you were doubled over in a cold sweat. "Come in, it's freezing."

He obeyed, closing the door to keep the warmth in. "I'm sorry I missed it."

"It's okay." _It really wasn't, but you couldn't give that away, could you?_ "I hope you had a good evening."

Nero was looking at the floor not daring to look you in the eye, and you could feel the guilt exuding from his heavenly form. "My arm went haywire. I needed some tweaking done to it before I could be in anyone's company."

 _Oh shit. That's more than a good enough reason._ "How is it now?"

"Just fine." Nero pulled it from behind him for you to inspect; up close it was a daunting mess of hardened red scales and glowing blue light, the utmost flawless weapon to ever be wielded by anyone who dare challenge him within arm's reach. The only times he had ever used it was to protect you, not that you had ever caused trouble or caught on anything for a hit to be placed on your head, but sitting in a dark corner for your entire life would bring taunts from the immature few who couldn't grasp the comfort in loneliness, breaking you down bit by bit until he showed up and gave them a week's worth of terror to remember the next time they chose to step in your way. "He's just fine."

You loved how the arm immediately warmed to your touch, poking and prodding lovingly at the various layers to it and holding it close to your frame that was already on fire. "I'm glad-" You phone sounded next to your pillow; a message from your mom stating there was cake in the bottom fridge for Nero and yourself to enjoy when you were feeling better. You weren't even close, but no force in this world would stop you from eating the delicious treat. "There's cake in the fridge downstairs if you want some-"

You didn't realise he was behind you the entire time; your bodies were undeniably close as you turned to relay the message, looking up at his face through glazed eyes at how much hotter in temperature he was compared to your fire. He was like a fever you couldn't sweat out, laying his forehead against yours to halt his hastening heartbeat you felt through every pore on your body as he pulled you into his grasp, clutching at your clothing and not wanting to let go. "Let me make it up to you." Nero nudged his head forward and kissed your lips impatiently, hoping it was enough to convince you of his need to be inside you. "Please, let me love for a few hours."

Tiny wet kisses followed, his tongue barely grazing your open mouth as he led you to your queen-sized bed in a satiating crusade as an apology; he peeled your clothes off carefully, setting them to an easily accessible pile one after the other as an obligatory build-up in your intoxicated state. Nero crawled between your legs and kissed you like his life depended on it, the both of you working on the many layers he donned for style and warmth until an equally naked body was against yours, lacing your fingers together as he buckled against your tight heat in an act he saw fit as the only proper way to treat you for the wondrous occasion. A burning kiss singed your lips as his tip begged for entry, opening your legs in an attempt to hinder the strain of the new invasion on both of your bodies.

He kissed you again, distracting your point of focus to his mouth instead of the soft, enticing length of his fingers dipping into you, caressing your folds affectionately before plunging in at a steady, unmoving pace and touching every part of you he could reach. Nero broke the kiss at your walls tightening around him, a sure sign your release was well within his clasp; he gazed between your bodies at his silken fingers covered in your liquid orgasm, running them against your swollen sex and into his mouth as he slid his hardened length on your sodden bundle of nerves, coating what he could before lining himself with you. "I should have done this a really long time ago." He stabilised himself on either side of your heaving chest as you wrapped your arms around him, preparing to dig into the meat should his actions prove too uncomfortable for you to handle.

His mouth hovered over yours at a safe distance, your breath mingling in hotness and anxiety as he slowly pushed inside you, tearing at your innocence in a swell of lust and devotion that was his to command from this day until your last. Your legs spread wider to accompany his frame as he found a rhythm pleasing to you both, the previous moans of pain turning themselves on its head into whimpers of desire for his body and everything he had to offer; you pulled yourself onto your elbows in a momentary lapse of curiosity, observing the source of the blissful noise coming from your joined limbs as his thrusts grew in pace, obeying your body as much as he did his. Nero clambered onto his knees, unlacing his grasp while pulling your legs further onto his lap, holding you in place as the unforgiving part of the night began, the screech from the back of your throat the starting whistle to his mounting need to show you just how sorry he truly was.

A few snaps of his finger woke you from your daydream as you looked around at an empty class. The clock had barely struck two minutes past. "You good?"

You could only smile and nod, having to control yourself for him being so close to you. It went without saying that you had a crush on him for a really long time unable to do anything owing to the ridicule you both would have to withstand from the crowd more fitting to his aesthetic needs. Nero was better suited with a tall brunette on his arm that would cater to his requirements, yet still only loving him a slice compared to the way you felt. Keeping your feelings under wraps was something you could do for the rest of however long you needed to and against your better judgement.

You reached the bottom of the tedious five flights of stairs you had to take each time, telling yourself that the cardio was worth it. "Protocol triple one?"

That was your pre-established code for 'let's hold hands so nobody bothers us'. "Affirmative," you reply in military fashion, heeding his request with the seriousness and sincerity of its intention.

The two of you giggled all the way to your car, hand in hand with your fair share of stares of male and female alike, ignoring the multiple twin holes baring in your back as you were sucked into another dimension while listening to him drone on and on about his day, the specific classes you missed while you were on the other side of campus. It was a rather far walk as you had parked close to your building, made all the more shorter at Nero's adorable laugh at cracking a joke you were light years from understanding.

You both buckled in to take the short trip home; you synced your phone to the radio and took caution in the parking area, wanting to get home as soon as possible. "What time did your parents say they're coming through tonight?"

You were so thankful when your mother called and told you they were being stolen away by their siblings for the weekend; they may make a turn the Sunday evening, but that still left two uninterrupted days of video games with no sleep, pizza with whatever toppings you wanted and as much coffee your brain could dream of: a recipe for the best disaster in a forty eight hour time period. "They're not coming. They're going away for the weekend so I'll be alone. Finally."

Nero was busy checking his phone for messages and missed calls, his head bent at the bright screen blinking in the corner of your eye but the frown evident between his ceaseless brows. "It's not good to be alone, ya know."

You had to watch out for oncoming traffic owing to the tiny slip road you took as a shortcut to get to your place. "I know, but I want to catch up on some work that I've left dormant for weeks because of varsity." One look at the bush of white hair and drivers nearly caused accidents of the monumental kind, keeping their eyes glued to the sleek muscles in his neck and not paying attention to their own manner of driving; if there was one thing uncommon about driving with Nero, it was the many hooters sounded to either catch his eye or waking another driver from the lust-induced sleep the man had coaxed them into.

He locked his phone and shoved it into his backpack at his feet. "And by work you mean-"

"Games. Yes. Uncharted has been calling my name for weeks now." You were wearing the straightest face; he loved how serious you were with your gaming and that you at least had something to occupy your time, but his worry came into play at your nutrition, skipping meals to finish one last mission over and over until you eventually gave up and went to bed, doing nothing about the rumble in your tummy.

He wasn't planning that on his watch. "Why don't you come to my place for dinner?" He was looking at you full on, his gorgeous face in view at your blind spot as you continued to do everything in your power to not succumb to his appeal; he always got what he wanted whether the involved parties liked it or not. "My mom made too much pie and gave me the entire thing to finish. I know you love it – well, not as much as her lasagne but she promised that next weekend."

Nero looked straight out of the window and back to you, opting for the view he preferred to tease to your mutual wits end; he knew you could see him and he knew you were trying not to – one inappropriate move from him could send the car swerving, but it still amused him to watch you lose your shit at the smallest of signals; whether it be a wink in your direction or a ghostly touch on your arm, he was well aware of the effect he had on you for a long time already, using all those years of bottled frustration to tease you and get whatever he wanted. It was just as bad that he was this amazing person alongside this mischievous beast, flipping a switch at a moment's notice to be sincere and caring when he needed to be.

And in a style only he could, he brandished a smile that could get away with murder of the first degree, showing off his pearly whites to any being he willed for something to be done. Fuck that smile; it split his face and flipped your galaxy on its axis, leaving you with an upside down Milky Way and on the opposite side of a black hole with your body strangely intact. "I was thinking to just getting some pizza actually; my mom left me some money a few weeks back, but the shops are going to be packed with horny teenagers and that's valuable time wasted."

He chuckled in his seat, clearly hearing something in your words that you missed; he adjusted the tightness of his seatbelt, a clear indication to you that his chest was getting bigger with the extra workouts he had added to his already intense regimen. "Since when has anything horny ever bothered you?"

 _Is that really what he took from that entire explanation?_ "I was talking about the teenagers part-"

"You like me horny." Nero was in his element, knowing how susceptible you were to specific stimuli. In this case, him; he had called you out a while back on your intense liking for him and it drove you mad every time he'd use it in a conversation or argument he knew he was losing. You had never once admitted to it, not denying it either, because giving him that one-up he'd been craving for years was something you couldn't do to yourself. He was intense and mocking all at once, never knowing when he was serious or just taking the mickey out of you for his own pleasure, but never had he left a conversation without making you feel good or left a topic dwindling in the air; unfortunately for you, he was a man – a very masculine one to boot – and because he considered you his best friend no subject matter was off limits; he spoke freely and rampant about the things he was passionate about, and one of those things just happened to be how badly he assumed you wanted him over every surface in existence.

You weren't about to be a willing pawn in his maniacal game so you played it safe, calling him out at the crux of his position to deter his train of thought. "Don't do that thing where you twist the conversation to something dirty. I'm driving; I need to concentrate."

The roads you had to take were winding and tricky, most of them missed by anyone who ventured the path on their first attempt, but sitting in traffic with the chaos next to you wasn't a luxury you would afford him. You did this for your benefit, opening the car door and walking to your place unscathed at his frolics in trying to rile you up. "So me being horny bends your concentration?"

Ah. So it begins. "Anything horny bends my concentration – you're nothing special."

His mouth gaped open as a flawless eyebrow was ready to reach the roof; even out of your view you could feel the potency of just how dangerous it was as a full on attack. "I can definitely challenge that, given that you were saying my name in your sleep." To your demise you were caught by a red light: the cars sped passed into Nero's line of vision with a tongue in his cheek and half of the smirk that got you in this mess the in first place; it would have been okay if he were facing straight forward, but his body was turned to you, tensing the seatbelt to the furthest amount of strain it could take before you gave him what he came for, that face only he knew when he was pulling your leg to the extent that you wanted his fib to be true.

You would have heard it; the many times that you did, you had managed to wake up upon the third mention of it, waking in a cold sweat at the things he did to you in your own personal reality. "I was not."

Nero grabbed at the case between his legs searching for his phone as the traffic lights turned green. "Oh you were. I can play you the recording as proof-"

"Please, no." You wanted to hear it, but giving him the satisfaction of hearing it twice, or however many times he'd already listened to it, was not on your fuck-it list for today. In the back of your mind he played a good game and his acting was on par worthy of an Oscar nomination. "I know you're lying, so… just… oh come on, we're almost home."

He knew he'd won; when you changed the subject to real world problems, that was your white flag – as an act commemorating his fast win he held his gaze forward as his normal hand found your upper thigh, pulling impressed faces at the muscles under the fabric as it shifted under the work of the accelerator. "Indeed we are." Nero normally sat like this to keep you calm when driving in the dead of night, your unscripted trip to the seven-eleven around the corner when you were out of ice cream or microwavable waffles; it was so small, so delicate a gesture at his reassurance that you were just fine, that he was close by to protect you with everything he had and more. His hands would subtly venture deeper between your legs giving it a comforting squeeze before the rest of the trip would have you drive one-handed, the other having soft circles traced within the boundaries your laced fingers would allow, and not daring to let your hand go until you both arrived home safely. A little dangerous on all accounts, but it did the trick, acting as an unspoken rule amidst the two of you that he had implemented on your first day of driving.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

You parked in your shared driveway and climbed out of the car, giving him a nod as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. "I'm used to occupying myself, Nero. Really, you don't have to worry. You live literally five steps away; if it annoys you too much just come over and see for yourself." You wanted him to; his company instantly made everything that much more bearable, even though being alone wasn't exactly an uncommon sight for you.

You met at the hood of the car as you always did to share a quick peck on the cheek that served as the closest thing to a goodnight kiss there would ever be between you two. "I might just do that."

He was too close. Whenever he got too close your cheeks would burn and alter to an infernal colour as it has done the many years you had known him. "Although, quick disclaimer: I don't think there'll be any pizza left over." You chuckled at your own joke wishing for your mind to wander into any plane that didn't contain him and his vigorous aura.

Nero laughed, that auspicious sound reverberating in the back of your skull and resonating deep within your being and dying in the pit of your stomach, waiting for another to burst into a medley of pandemonium that would undoubtedly take your mind off any objective you had hoped to complete whilst playing your games. "Noted." He closed the gap and cupped your face in his hands, yours finding refuge in the crook of his elbow; his jumbled scent always hit you hardest when he was being intimate, taking a step out of his comfort box to bring something new to the table every time and providing you with yet another angle to crumble your mind into a shiny pile of bleh. "Lock all the windows and the doors, okay? Close the curtains too, and get that electric blanket going. It looks like it's gonna be cold."

The material of his shirt was soft enough for you to tear it off in a matter of seconds. "It's always cold here." The look in his eyes wasn't convinced; he had a way of plucking at your heartstrings with an elusive twitch to his demeanour that would send you wilfully spiralling into the depths of your own psyche, making you feel the same thing he felt to get you to admit that you needed him. "You don't have to worry-"

"Just eat. That's all I'm saying."

You could feel his breath ghosting your lips, sending the soft flesh on a drunken frenzy into the darkest recesses of your mind. "I will. I've learnt my lesson, Nero. I'm a big girl now." You twiddled your thumbs against his forearms, yet he didn't cease his grip; he kissed your cheeks one after the other with a grave look in his icy blues, unknowing of the repercussions that you'd face in not living up to your side of the deal. A smile on your part was all you had left, telling him you would heed every word and look after yourself for the short time that you would be alone. It wasn't a big deal, but he treated it like Hercules' thirteenth labour.

He took you into his arms and growled into your ear, attempting to appear menacing when all it did was assist the wetness between your legs to spring free in a stream of moist desire. "I will come when you least expect it." Nero kept your gaze for two seconds too long, allowing his lips to fall onto yours in surprise as your shoulders dropped in the unanticipated action, rising onto your tippy toes for the kiss to linger some more. This wasn't your first kiss but it had been a while since, scrambling up the courage to take you under the darkness of the evening and bring you with him on the incredible passage to the deep and murky unknown he knew best.

He pulled your lip between his teeth as he made his way to his front door, leaving your mind to drift on its own. You watched him disappear behind it, falling onto the bonnet of your car to claim your bearings for what had just happened; you covered your face in your hands, giggling like a younger version of yourself just like the first time you shared that very same kiss; the pupa in your belly gave zero fucks to the time it spent lying dormant in you, springing forth in majestic colour as their glittery wings tickled the inside of your chest in relief. "Get inside, it's cold out." Nero was probably watching you through the massive windows of his property as he shouted to you, frightening you and making you lose balance and almost slide on your butt onto the freezing tar. You picked yourself up quickly as if nothing happened, looking around for witnesses and jogging to your door for the sake of your own dignity, not risking him seeing the natural pink hue of your face. You could bet your life on hearing him snicker on the other side of the wall as you closed your front door, turning and leaning against it with your face in your hands once again.

* * *

The new dungeon you had just entered was a bit more troublesome than you expected; you were on your third try, dying on the same spot owing to a flaw in your tactic and exhausting your health supply too quick for the first few demons that had surfaced. You were ready to give up, mustering the rage for one last try as your doorbell rang and crossing your fingers it was the delivery man with your pizza. You couldn't remember how long ago you had ordered it, but considering how far you had reached in the game it was quite a while back and definitely not within the normal timeframe of the thirty minutes they promised each time. You were so hungry you didn't bother checking the peephole and opened it on a whim, smelling the fumes of crust and cheese from afar.

The door swung open to reveal a fresh looking Nero in new clothes holding two large pizza boxes in his blue claw, adjusting a rucksack with the other and stepping in with as you stepped back to make way for his overly large frame to fit through the door. "Not exactly when you least expected it, but I thought I'd have to fight with them for the pizza." You held your hands out to take the rucksack from him, noting the sleeping bag and pillows he had managed to stuff inside; it was so typical of him to take matters into his own hands, not leaving any form of responsibility to you because you weren't doing things his way, and what was better than him being in charge of everything, watching you like the hawk he was and criticising everything you did? His loss – the evening was pretty much set without flaw with very little available for him to comment on.

"See? I'm fine, am I not?"

"I wouldn't doubt that." He sat your dinner on the counter and dug out the bottle of Dr Pepper that your eyes had missed. "I'll be taking the couch then; my house is too far to keep an eye on you." Nero was now standing in front of the TV attempting to make sense of the flurry of numbers and meters on the screen, too many flashes of blue light confusing him to the overall purpose of the mission at hand; he plonked himself on the cushion next to yours, sinking into the cotton and resting his solid arms along the back of it, making himself as comfortable as possible. "And honey, you'll be even better now that I'm here."

How more right could he be? You followed his exact footsteps to your seat after stealing a single slice and eating it in record time, washing it down with the sparkling water you had sitting next to you on the couch. The tips of his fingers strategically lined up with the nape of your neck, massaging gently to calm you as you explained the current trouble you were having in getting to the heart of the dungeon. "I was just going to finish this and then be done; I can't wrap my head around those stupid things." You wiped your hands clean on the napkin you kept just in case, clutching at the controller and giving Nero an apologising look that you weren't able to give him the attention he came over for. "Just a few minutes, I swear I can do it-"

"I have no doubt you can, but you need to relax." The small tinge of his fingers evolved into both his hands on your shoulders and the middle of your back, rubbing the growing tension the game was instilling in you. You unsuspectingly embraced the pattern he mapped out, pressing at the knots that grew tighter the longer they loitered dormant and without release. "If you do it, you do it. You don't, you go to bed and dream of the best solution and then carry it out when you wake up."

Nero stirred in his seat, moving to slip behind you for a better angle and reaching more of your back that way. You had to fight with yourself to not throw the controller across the room and straddle him right there and then – the thought of presently being between his legs was an idea you had to push to the back of your head for the sake of your game, his hands still working their magic on your fragile form. "That really does happen, ya know?"

The dungeon seemed somewhat easier than you recall, or was it that you had to show off your skill to the audience you now had? Either way it worked, with you utilising your army of weapons and magic to create combos you hadn't thought would initially work. Just when you thought you had clenched it from under the sophisticated AI's feet, he rested his head on your shoulder to catch a glance of what button corresponded to which attack and so on, a move so small and adorable you didn't resist leaning into, that claw sprawling across your ribs with its generating heat penetrating through your thin layers of clothing. "Why did you choose to play as the skinniest one?"

"There isn't a choice – the other three back you up and you can call them to assist you, but you can't play as them." He nodded deeper into your shoulder as his hands rubbed at your frame, jealous of the four characters on the TV screen and now seeking the attention he rightfully came for; you knew him well enough to know that he gets all touchy-feely when he felt lonely, transported into another world until you pulled him back to your own reality and kept him entertained by means of whatever necessary. Just like you, Nero fully relished in the qualities complete solitude brought him, but it was the option to be lonely by your side that won all his internal battles every day. At your fourth and final death you gave up and turned the console off from your seat, feeling a smile against your clothed shoulder as you pulled him with you to the kitchen to feast on your cooling dinner. He moved with purpose behind you, slipping tiny peeks at the deep curves your body displayed as you dragged him across your lounge and into a high chair at the counter.

"So-" he said between bites of chicken and mushroom, "you're alone at home, no parents for miles, and you opt to spend it dying multiple times until the early hours of the morning instead of-" another bite, "oh I dunno, breaking out the ol' rusty toys and having some fun with them."

You almost choked on your bite, having to lie through your teeth to show face. "I don't have toys." You ran a mental check of their last known locations, knowing for certain there was no way he would find them. "Besides, I wouldn't want you losing sleep by sitting up all night with a glass to your wall." You observed his strong jaw make mincemeat of the thin base and toppings, flexing its godly splendour at slicing thin air with its sharpness at every chew.

Nero chuckled with a full mouth at the way you ogled him, licking the edges of his lips for any trace of crust or topping that may have been left behind on the way to its delectable destination. You watched the food go down his throat as he swallowed the stringy mess, placing the last piece of crust between his teeth and biting slowly, knowing your eyes wouldn't dare to be occupied with anything else but him. "If that's how you think I'd do things, then you clearly don't know me as well as you think you do."

You raised an eyebrow at him, refuting the fact that he claimed he knew himself better than you did – that was one for the record books. "Oh really? What would you do then, assuming you magically caught me on my bed naked with a hardened piece of purple rubber between my legs?" You classily dusted your hands off on your plate and crossed your arms against your chest, practically urging him to dig into the part of his brain where he kept you and his sexual impulses at bay, realising your mistake three seconds too late.

 _Now why did you have to go and say that?_ The image of him walking in on you pleasuring yourself was now imprinted in your subconscious, the look of hunger on his face as you moaned in pleasure at your own hand, working your walls to bring you ever so close to the edge before spilling all over the plaything in your grasp and pulling it out from deep inside you, your orgasm stringing across its tip right to your entrance and watching it stretch as you set it down next to you, the glistening substance spread across your thigh when you attempt to do the same with your fingers. "You're kidding right? You know I can do a way better job than anything you might be hiding in those drawers of yours." He dropped half of his new slice back into the box, wiping that sultry mouth to continue the boost to his ego. "If it came to that, I'd probably pull it out of you so fast you wouldn't know what's happening; if you're close, and I know when you are, I'd push into it and replicate what I'd do in the situation until you came, then I'd pull it out of you and show what I'm really capable of."

You stuffed the last piece of crust into your mouth and closed the box, unable to swallow anything else that might fill your belly given the complex web of acid your neighbour was building inside of you. "And what would that be?"

"You know, don't you?" Nero got off his seat and moved the boxes to the oven, thinking the same thing you were in the evening taking a much different turn to what you had planned. The two of you were in sync, but you made the mistake of leaving it up to him to make the first move every time, a costly one that then later blossomed into a hankering need only he could satisfy with his skills. "Wait, no, who am I kidding? Five years is a long time to try and remember."

 _Has it really been five years?_ "That was such a long time ago, but contrary to what you think I do remember it – I can't forget it really, as much as I try-"

"And why would you want to forget it?"

Nero made his way back and was standing close to you, taller than you in your seated position; he smirked as he moved flailing strands of hair behind your ear, his digits gently trailing your features to rest at the crook of your neck and almost burning away your thoughts at their own frayed ends. "It's not that I want to, I just can't-" He wedged himself your legs and looked deep into your eyes, searching for any reason to not go through with the truth he had for the two of you; blue flames ignited in his eyes, the heat radiating through a piercing stare that left you motionless upon contact, soaking into him and falling one step closer to his ultimate plan.

"Then let's make sure you never do…"

He held your hands tightly in his as the kiss from before snaked its way to the surface, continuing to deepen its constricting talons on the grey matter between your ears, pumping in its infamous Nero-toxin to later transgress through your entire body by the end of the night; inside your mouth, Nero's tongue willed deep strokes in its swollen grandeur against your own, tugging you off your seat to embrace your entire body properly to bend to his will. Nero's hands found your neck, spreading his fingers on the expanse of soft skin that tingled under his touch, sending warning signals between your legs of his plan all along. He stopped dead in his tracks, holding your hand sweetly as he pulled you upstairs.

 _Oh my, it's finally happening. Oh dear god, I'm done for._ You couldn't talk to yourself long enough when he halted at your door, opening the entrance to your room that served as the door to your untimely demise under his command as he justly ravaged your frame the way you deserved all these years. Nero held you near as he closed the door lightly behind you as your skin tingled at the warmth of the room – you had both the heater and blanket going, meaning the cold would stand no chance while you slept.

He sucked your lips into another kiss, holding your chin in his soft grip as he pushed you into the cupboards next to your bed, forcing himself deeper into your mouth and exploring the scorching heat that he whole-heartedly controlled. Your palms found the fabric of his shirt, lightly pressing into his torso and watching him pull away, concern dripping on every line of his perfect face. "Would you hate me if I brushed my teeth real quick?"

He made no effort to move just yet. "Why would I hate you?"

You rubbed your legs together, brazen as his eyes caught sight of every move. "Because I'm killing the moment and all-"

"I'll get it back, don't… you… worry…" Every pause was complimented by a peck to the lips, glazing your eyes in a second layer of pure lust. "Just make it quick." Oh, that undertone was ready for murder, a veiled threat for the deepest punishment if you were to deviate from his authority. You rushed into your big en-suite bathroom and brushed for the overpowering garlic on your breath to dissolve under a strong blast of mint and calcium, rinsing and drying your mouth as quickly as you could to meet the source of your own undoing, feeling silly in having to walk to your own burial: you opened the door and he was right there, his shirt and vest a crumpled mess at the foot of your bed as you looked straight ahead at the god over the threshold; none of his clothes did justice to the protruding muscles he sported under his early morning activities, each prominent in their own right with lines dividing dreams from reality, his skin taut to support them from falling out of his frame; you traced the sharp curves in his hips as they dipped into the waistband of his jeans, condemning that godforsaken belt for keeping them at their desired position. As if he read your mind, he held your stare with his tongue between his teeth as he removed the piece of leather out of its homely loops, dropping it where he stood and holding his hand for you to take.

All dignity aside, the words escaped you without a second thought. "Where do you want me?"

He placed you in the same previous spot, tweezing the hem of your shirt before lifting it over your head and shoulders; he licked and bit the flesh your bra didn't cover, lapping across the planes of your collarbone and finally resting at the base of your jaw. "All over this room."

Nero's raspy voice turned the atmosphere on its head, your body hitting the hard wood behind you with a thud as his arms wrapped around your ribcage and pulled you close, using his mouth to release the clasp on the black lace you had chosen over the normal red you'd wear when you were alone, and weren't you so happy you had changed your mind; the piece of metal was easy work for his skilled tongue, lifting the clasp as far upward as he could and then pulling it apart between his teeth, letting the lace pop open to reveal your naked, perky breasts hardening as he glared at each one, licking over each nipple respectively as a professional courtesy to give them both the attention they deserved. He lifted you in his arms and aligned your chest with his mouth, taking the chance to enclose over one of them as the hands on your back pushed you into him, your hands tugging violently on the silver strands for support as he moved you to the bed, your back bouncing on the mattress at the sheer magnitude of his unparalleled need to make you his between your flimsy sheets. Your sweats were taken care of, the weak drawstring pulled and ridded with ease. "Up," he says, coaxing your hips involuntarily upward for him to remove the sickening cotton out of view, standing tall on his knees as he burned you in your half-nakedness into his memory. "I want to ruin you for anyone that follows, including me."

 _You already have, Nero. You already have._ "I need you as wet as possible, so don't hold out on me." He fell forward into your chest once again, biting and moaning into the goose bumps that made you breathe heavy, grappling onto the sheets at your side as a last ditched effort to keep yourself calm under his weight. Your chest arched into him as he traversed downward with his lips never leaving your skin, burying his tongue into your belly button and on the sensitive flesh just above your sex; you sunk your head deeper into your vast collection of pillows as the bottom half of the black lace moved from its intended purpose to the floor, Nero purposely scratching your instep with the material with full implication that you were now naked and spread on your bed, ready to be devoured by the only man capable of driving you this insane; he took it slow, tasting every inch of your leg from your ankle to your calves, the back of your knees to your inner thigh, revelling the subtle differences in sweetness your body gave for him to consume. What energy you had from dinner diminished under his lips as they found your sex, smooching your folds the way he would the pair of lips on your face, his tongue venturing over and inside you at irregular intervals so you were kept in the dark for most of the trip; the irrevocably grip on your thighs could only mean one thing in his books and that was a release upon release, letting you out of his clutches only after you gave him an orgasm that left you empty and dripping on the covers of the bed. You watched the head from above sync the sensations with his movements, draping his tongue on the parts he could reach, extending it and pushing into you further and further for you to scrunch the muscles along your walls and clamp him in as the first marker of you budding release. The hands in his hair proudly pushed his face into you as you opened your legs to accommodate him, arching against the mattress and shutting your eyes at the powerful liquid bursting from your body; you had the scream to match, your grip on his head wilting as every ounce of you being exited through your vagina and into Nero's mouth.

The beast resurfaced from between your legs as your shaky hands ran through your hair, unable to control your limbs at what had just happened. "I need more."

Did you have more to give? "What do you mean 'more'?"

He exhumed cockiness at this point, driving his sentiments home that he could make you feel better than any one of your toys. "You're holding out on me." He gave a look to his claw and his eyes found yours, heating the abnormality to a cool enough temperature to nudge you over the edge; he ran the claw on the outside of your engorged clitoris, readying three of his best to squeeze everything out of you. "We can fix that-" and your body twisted again, your lungs not willing to help you save face as it expelled a shriek so lovely to his ears, he made it his mission to drag one similar to that with all of his individual efforts to make you come a second time. He watched your body from above, clenching his teeth at the satisfactory responses he had over your frame, rubbing you to a new level of sensitivity for what was to come next.

You couldn't take it anymore: no way was he going to reduce you to a raging mess like this, let alone it being done by improper penetration – you were better than this, stronger than this, and you would never forgive yourself as being the only fuck of his to die on his every touch and being a good girl for the sake of his own ego. The strength boost came from nowhere, breaking Nero's train of thought as you rose and sat on your knees, your hands holding his firmly at your entrance while the other held his arm securely in place, working your orgasm as an indirect result of your actions; an incredulous look encased his face as he angled his head to watch you bounce on his digits, taking him deeper than he alone could manage before pushing him away in fury, falling onto your ass as the clear liquid oozed slowly out of you, permitting the devil a full view of an orgasm he was only half responsible for.

Nero scrutinised the growing wet pool on the covers, becoming envious at his dry claw. "Why did you do that?"

Your face turned soft and squared your jaw in triumphant defiance; if he knew you as well as he thought he did, this should be no surprise to him. "You were slacking." He wasn't going to win this, not by a long shot; you were painfully aware of the stark difference in stamina, but something like that held low efficacy when it came to messing with his head – it was your specialty and you'd be damned to walk out of your room without making him earn what he so desperately wants. You'd do anything for him but you were no pushover; he was on enemy territory, and he needed to be reminded of that in a slow, agonising fashion: you looked deep into his furious soul as you busied yourself with the button and zipper on his jeans, feeling the impressive bulge between the two offending materials; it was bigger than you imagined and stouter than your last encounter, pulling the rough denim to Nero's knees to take him in fully. Your hands were antsy at the pulsating yet covered organ before you, driving you mad with hunger and its potential inside your tightness that you couldn't wait to be reminded of; before you could make a move to free him from his spandex prison, his bringer was on you, nailing you to the bed by your throat. He climbed off at the edge, proficient in removing his clothing with one hand – his jeans met your underwear on the floor and your eyes were brought back onto his incredible body as he played with himself over its covering. You struggled under the big glow not for the sake of air but to annoy him to no end, loving the confidence it gave you to not be a typical bed for him, wanting to put his better energies on display to gage his true capability.

"You move a muscle, I swear I will make you scream until your fucking lungs are on fire." No menace; delivered with pure calm and composure, more deadly than any decibel he could raise his voice to. You had him now; his previous shock had not died down, and the more you disobeyed the more he was putty in your hands. "Why can't you just be quiet and take it like a good girl?"

The grip on your throat heated with his temper, and you'd never admit to how good it felt being irrefutably his for the next few hours. "You said you wanted to ruin me; where's the challenge if I don't fight b-" Your breath caught in your throat as his briefs dropped to the floor joining the pile of clothing, his massive penis pink under the weight of all the blood in his body concentrated on satisfying the need that began and ended between your legs. You stayed immobile as he resumed his position on the bed using a single finger to nudge your legs in his desired position – far away from each other. He used that same finger to trail down your thigh and dig into you, your orgasm thick on his finger as he hooked it on the corner of his lips.

"The fun comes in watching your face drop as you slowly realise what's about to happen to you."

You weren't scared in the least. "And what would that be?"

The bringer faded on your neck as he used it to lift your entire body off the bed to place you both under the covers, taking refuge in his favourite spot and coercing your legs further apart on account of his muscular hips, taking your hands and lacing them safely in a beguiling vice and kissing you with as much love as he would allow. "Unleashing fifteen plus years of having to watch from the side lines as you become everything I've ever wanted." He fortified his position against you, wanting it to be just perfect. "May I?"

Everything was different now that he admitted his feelings to you; after the long years waiting your attentive spirit had paid off, and he was mere seconds away from making you his the way you'd both craved. "Please…"

Nero's grip tightened as he gave you a soul-crushing smile, crashing your lips together as an urgent plea of self-righteousness before you saw the covers shift over him in a deep thrust so good you moaned in synchronised fashion, both arching your backs to cater the profound discovery lost amidst your bodies on the bed; he wasted no time in dipping his head into the crook of your neck as he began his onslaught, moaning deeply into your ear canal with every move of his hips, ramming his penis so deep inside you that breathing became your second priority. Your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, giving him more room to survey your spongy walls like never before, causing intense friction that wasn't going anywhere any time soon. You shoved your head into the feathery softness as he plunged deeper and deeper, hitting all the spots he missed out on the first time round; you took no notice that your hands were no longer bound by his, keeping them in place until the victimisers in question held your hips powerfully, rendering you immobile. He began with long, plunging pushes to give you a feel of his potential, unchanging in pace yet effective at building that orgasm that he needed; you were in awe of his focus and myriad of tricks up his sleeve, watching him disappear in and out of the gap designed for him and him only, the whiteness of your juices stewing thicker under his concentrated actions.

"Yes, baby, just like thaaaaa-" You timing was perfect; his pace quickened on the upstroke and slowed on the down-stroke, jack-hammering your fragile form higher on the bed to which you pushed down by means of the supporting headboard. You gave up the fight with your lungs and let the moans and shouts expel from your mouth, screaming profanities that made Nero smile beneath the shade of the covers. The man above you fell forward and assumed his calculated thrusts, his improper breathing giving way for an orgasm you haven't yet seen; his weighty inhales grew substantially difficult with every second that passed but his thrusts took no strain, working harder and faster to bring you to the same point he currently was. Nero took no prisoners as he held fast on your thighs, pushing them together as his final act as a sane man and holding your legs tightly, clenching you around him until all his liquid frustration spilled freely inside you with a gratified snarl in the back of his throat.

The butterflies were content in your tummy, seeing him as you've never before, elated and happy on his own terms. His eyes opened at the girly giggle escaping your mouth; a big mistake considering you laughed with your entire body and he was still very deep inside you. "Your turn."

"My what?" He was on you in a flash, quick to grab your entire body and flip your positions so you straddled him, the only position he saw fit to completely embed himself in you. You were quick to realise it as well, your ribcage concaving on the new depth he was reaching far beyond your human comprehension.

"I want you to come for me, sweetheart. Do whatever it takes." You were still coming down from your high at the new sensation when a thought struck you like a lighting jolt to the spine; this was payback, an opportunity to use him and make him whine and whimper at wanting you, needing the blistering heat he had grown accustomed to in the short span of time. As practiced as you'll ever be, you fell forward and attuned your position, making his mouth open in anticipation for what was to come; his hands impulsively journeyed to the back of your thighs to take immediate control, but one look at the compelling face you pulled dared him to go further, surrendering his grasp to rest behind his head for as long as he could handle. Your fingers dug into his chest as you pumped your hips along his length, alternating between forward and back to drown him in his own juices for easier access to the deeper parts of you he was sure to hit some time later on. Using only your pelvis you varied your moves in the same manner Nero did – long, deep strokes and quick defining ones – to your advantage, heightening your unpredictability and startling him whenever you needed to. The looks on his face didn't help at all; that sexy smoulder as you transported him to another dimension of pleasure was just the spurt you required to begin your half-sated release from before, readying your lower half for an attack on his senses he could never anticipate. He swallowed gravely as his hands itched to move to your hips at the same moment you rammed unforgivingly onto him from every angle, fast-paced and delicious on his cock that swelled to accommodate each thrust. Nero had had just about enough, liberating his clutches from under his head only to have his forearms stuck to the bed by your grasp, adding rotations to the mix at what was clearly Nero losing his mind. He swallowed again, dry at the mouth at his loss of wit thanks to your sex, his lungs proving breathing too tumultuous of a task on his current state. You ogled his perfect face one last time and there he was, begging and pleading for you to let his arms free to travel your body in all its sweaty glory. He was yours. "I hate it when you do that."

You relieved him of his torture and set your hands on his shoulders, knowing that feeling sorry for that charming face would come back to bite you in the ass; the chaos beneath you found your hips, grazing on the ripe skin of your inner thigh as he pushed you back into his favoured position. "Hold on tight," he says, the flicker of a smirk appearing and disappearing at his jerking hips finding a new, relentless pace with which to pound into you; the sheer force of his thrusts forced your docile body to levitate off the bed, meeting each of his shoves in mid-air and riding you down each wave respectively, gravity playing its part at bringing you back to the sticky situation you've gotten yourself into. Nero moved faster, tightening the grip on the lower half of your body as he felt your thighs give away your oncoming orgasm, shaking in delight at his new take on lovemaking as your spine finally caved in, your mop of hair hiding your sweaty features from view while your hands flattened on the headboard behind him for support. He couldn't see your mouth forming that 'O' shape that he loved so much; he couldn't see the tears of ecstasy falling from your eyes as that ripe scream finally escaped from your tummy, burning its way up in an inebriating echo around the room while your fluids spilled all over him down below, making that squelching sound that warned him of your arrival to his reality of fierce desire and longing.

You collapsed onto his chest exhausted, that last release taking everything out of you at once; you steadied your breathing as best you could, the after-effects of his sex still lingering within your bloodstream below your navel, the skin prickling at his now tender touches to the muscles on your back. He moved your hair of the way and kissed your forehead gently, realising the consequences of the night and smiling at the revelations that were to come going forward. "My princess."

Nero was deep inside you still as you lifted your tired frame to meet his eyes. "You called?"

He smiled as he pulled your face to his, giving your features the once over he'd be doing for the rest of his days, lifting your jaw to meet his lips and tongue as his submission in a long-fought war for your love and affection, teasing your bottom lip the same way he did hours prior to remind you of the costly effect you had on him as you relaxed into his embrace, laying your body flat on his and feeling every inch of skin you now called yours.


	2. Dessert

He was fast asleep on your chest, his hands curled into balls at your sides as you raked your fingers through his soft hair, watching him breathe deeply under the unconscious shades of his deepest, darkest secrets buried behind the beautiful man he was; there were many facets of his life you chose to not dig into, given the complexities and obstacles in his upbringing owing to the obvious anomaly on full display, the processes and cost of maintaining its serene state as well as the strenuous offload his body had to endure, and you knew it couldn't have been easy on him. Nero took all of this in his stride, illustrating the profoundly strong person he was yet ignoring the more important strain that was being affected. You could shed thousands of tears at his internal struggle every day, not wanting to dive into his head at all the buzzing and static that whizzed against his skull; most of those thoughts would probably make another of weakened stature scream in agony at the pain of the migraines of overthinking and overcomplicating the simplest of tasks, deepening your respect for the man draped over you in all his pale goodness.

You reached for your phone on your dresser next to you, trying to move as little as possible as a groan reverberated against your chest, Nero flinging his arms in the air looking for your hands to place them back in their original position. "I thought you were asleep."

Your hands found their place once again. "I was," he replied, purring under the sensation caused by your fingers. "And then I remembered where I was…" His fists unclenched to take homage along the sides of your body, "…and with whom…" The soft skin under his worship, tightening with your abdominal muscles as this breath tingled on your chest. "…so I figured sleep unnecessary in this time of crisis." He lifted his head and placed his chin in a small crevice, pouting his lips as both his hands moved to fondle your responsive breasts, massaging them heartily and playing with your nipples until they were hard enough to handle his unruly mouth.

"Crisis, you say?" Your arms flung behind you as you allowed him to do as he pleased with your body, arching your back into his nurtures as the best wakeup call you've received in a long time; Nero scaled the familiar terrain, dropping small kisses as breadcrumbs on your ribcage and to your neck all the while holding the lumps on your chest in his smooth, supple palms. He commanded your body with a single look, those glaciers freezing your every thought and motion in place for him to take over, melting you under those same hands that numbed your rationality and pulled you into his wispy web of fussy intrigue.

He looked deep into your eyes as you lay still beneath him, not daring to move a muscle in the unlikely event of breaking what could be an intimate moment. "I must have lost my mind a long time ago."

Nero sucked his fingers and traced your lips, dipping his head to welcome the new day in style. Your body liquefied at the intensity of his kiss, bringing back memories of the previous night that had burrowed into every inch of your heated skin. His tongue was slow, dampening your resolve a fragment at a time with his bewitching essence that you held onto so dearly. "Switch with me."

His bringer was glowing to your mutual ardour, tracing the lines of your face as he tucked a few stray strands behind your ear. "Huh?"

You were already moving, sitting on your knees and waiting for him to take your place. "Get on your back, dummy." He stayed on his side, waving his open palms in the air and throwing the question to the invisible wavelength you were both coasting; you pointed harshly to his chest, then to the portion of the bed in front of you, aligning your fists together and pumping them against your chest. "You didn't let me last night."

He gave up, losing the battle before it started; he stretched under the covers and you moved between his legs, forming a tiny tent with the duvet. "He proved too much for your little vagina, sweety; what was he going to do to that poor little mouth of yours?"

Nero knew better than to put his hands behind his head but did it anyway, not believing you had it in you to make him come with your mouth and hands only; little did he know that it wouldn't just be your limbs doing the work. "Oh, we'll see." The duvet fell to his knees as he spread his legs per your instruction, your nails scraping the underside of his thighs while a smile beamed on his face, falling flat to the bed as you took his pink tip into your mouth, pulling his focus onto you and your need for his orgasm in every nook and cranny of it. You sucked at his tip like a straw, hallowing your cheeks for the raw flesh around it to ripen with the available friction you had triggered until the first drops of precum hit your tongue, using it to lather the rest of his strengthening length to support your hands in their enclosed duty to bring him to dust. He was big enough for both of your hands to fit around him and just the right thickness for a deft clasp; you began at his base, constricting the joints in your hand to knead more blood into the muscle – he stiffened in front of your eyes, pulsating in tune with his heart that concentrated his remaining fluid to the organ as you worked on him relentlessly. Your other hand attached itself directly underneath his tip, twisting and pulling at the loose skin of his penis as his hips grew tense under the stress you were constructing along his erection. You risked a peek, watching his hands hover in the air on a direct route to embed themselves in your scalp; his lids closed as his blue orbs rolled into his skull, his lungs now feeling the weight of the distrust and mistake of his assumptions. The ghost of a moan escaped his body through his mouth in time with a quiet spill of his milky sanity over his length; it dripped slowly, its viscosity disallowing a fast travel to his base. _Oh, this is gonna be good._ You licked at his base with your tongue swollen in thirst, tilting your head to lap up the silken saltiness and bite on his thickness, following the trail upward with gentle flicks of your lips on his erection.

Nero clenched his teeth at the extraordinary feats of your mouth on him, raking both of his hands through your moist roots and gripping tightly, knocking his head against the headboard to regain control over his own body and failing miserably. At long last your teasing ceased, the double-glaze of excitement bubbling in your gut as you took him whole into your throat, your lips crusting the skin at his base while the tight confines of your throat worked against his beating member, making him cry your name into the atmosphere as he scrunched his form to be closer to your bobbing head, proving him wrong with each dive his pinkness melted behind your mouth. He clawed at the back of your neck as you combined the two, hitting his head on the sturdy wood again; the motions flowed fluidly, pumping him and coating him up in a mix of saliva and cum, your hands practically sliding on him in his entirety and beckoning his second coming.

He quickly yanked at your strands, struggling to open his eyes and see you in your messy, dishevelled state and brought you to his level, his feisty side showing when your hands refused to stop grinding on his swollen penis; Nero got you behind your head, wrenching you into his bubble with no remorse and scarring your mouth in a searing kiss that tingled to your spine and all the way to your toes, curling into the sheets as he was showing the final signs of his defeat – his hand moved to the front of your face, wafting the unnecessary veil of hair that hid your victory; a hastened peck to the lips made worse by your contracting grasp around him, he moaned long and deep into your mouth as he gave you his best orgasm yet, gushing through your fingers as one last drag set him free from your torture.

You felt good as you threw the covers to the end of the bed and the waft of cold air hit him, adding to the gooseflesh accumulating on his chalky, clammy skin; you savoured the view stunned in the covers as his eyes followed your every move, his liquid threads in plain sight. "I'm gonna take a shower. Be a good boy and just-" Nero didn't look like he was planning on going anywhere, "-sit there til I'm done." You stalked to him in your bare glory and he found it within himself to rise on his knees, nuzzling between your breasts and his arms encasing your waist. "I won't be long." He nodded and kissed them individually, the best deed he could carry through on his diminishing energy level as you sneaked into your bathroom, Nero's iced orbs trained to every curve of your back as you closed the door behind you.

 _You bought it, didn't you?_

There was a jump to your step as your bare feet patted against the cold tiles of your shower as you turned the water to its third-highest setting: ten degrees from lukewarm, you let the clean, fresh droplets pour down your face and body at a reasonable speed, fast enough to wake you from the fatigue brought on by the man in the other room. You let the water cascade at your crown, tilting your head for the pressure to relieve the aches in your neck and back, using your hands to quickly wipe down the sweat that had accumulated in your pores. Arriving at the plump skin at your tummy, you slowed and took your time, feeling at the soft flesh and biting your lip the closer you got to your sweltering heat; you were shy at first, dipping your hand slowly between your legs and opening them slightly as if a pair of blue eyes was watching you.

You bowed your head for the water to run through your sticky strands, leaning forward for you to wander around further inside you. The hair around your ears shielded the outside world from your own bubble, concentrating your movements at the echo of your heartbeat resonating through your entire frame – an error on your part in your shock of being turned and pushed into the wall of the shower by two irrevocably big hands, speedily replaced by his naked body as he angled the showerhead to your new position. "Did you really think it would be that easy?"

Nero fell to his knees in front of you, lifting your leg onto his shoulder and nibbling under your belly button, moaning into the heating flesh upon feeling the wetness that had already accumulated at your own hand. You thrust your hips forward onto his awaiting tongue, twirling your wet hair through your fingers at the motions of his mouth, licking you longer and deeper while his fingers cruelly teased your folds open, widening your inflated sex to hit your peak; that spot he held in his hands to mercilessly destroy in front of your very eyes. You head tilted upward slightly, water collecting in your gaping mouth and leaking over its corners as he found it with three added digits, instigating remarkable friction with the relaxed muscles under the command of the soothing shower. He continued to wind you up, not going deep or fast enough for a proper release but keeping you at bay, locked behind a cage of his own assembly until he gave you the key, one all-encompassing knock to your subconscious that would send you reeling into alternate versions of your own reality in his grasp, to come down from your high only by his hand and mind satiated by the whimpers escaping your chest. Sadly, he wasn't in the mood to give you what you needed: his mouth left you twitching on air with a groan that vibrated along the damp tiles.

You dropped your head at the tiny splashes happening below, watching him wipe his chin at the slivers of you he permitted to flow and put them into his mouth. "This hurts me as much as it does you, sweetheart."

He stood, crushing you, blocking the stream of calming water in allowing it to pour down his body. His face floated over yours, provocatively tempting you with a kiss that never came. "Impossible."

You watched him run his fingers through his hair, pushing the unruly strands in their opposite intended direction as he slinked closer, grappling your legs and wrapping them around his waist. Nero planted his feet on the shower floor as he lifted your legs over his elbows, hastily lining up with your entrance he hadn't yet touched since your encounter began and pushing in roughly, burying himself to the hilt inside your ass and clawing into the meat of your thighs to hold you in position. He stepped backward and pushed forcefully into the tiled wall once more, beating you into submission for his final act to sway you to the dark side. He bent to whisper in your ear, his jugular reflecting his diminishing control over his own actions. "It will be over soon, I promise."

You felt his need to the very tips of your toes, curling as they were flailed into the air; the cool of the tiles helped your spiking temperature as he slid inside you with no effort, soft and brutal in pace and guided by the piercing growls that left your burning lungs; one by one he plucked them from you, closing the gaps between his thrusts and giving up on the support of the wall entirely, splaying his fingers on your cheeks and pulling you to him in time with his violent forward shoves, leaving you to helplessly hold him by his neck in a grip that would deplete in a matter of seconds; he beat himself into you, thumping deeper and deeper as the commotion below bounced off the walls fast enough to overlap your own bated breath. "I can feel you, baby; you're close." And you were, but you were missing something: thankfully he was able to read your mind as his pushes edged you on, clashing into the wall and dropping your legs to cater for both of his hands to wreak havoc on your vagina, pounding stroke for stroke to compete with his penis. "Come for me, kitten," he finally says, loud enough to echo along the walls and having it hit your ear canal more than once. "Let me hear you purr."

You didn't need to be told twice: the liquid left your body sadistically, squirting on both of his hands and erection and part of his upper thighs. A deep chuckle left him as you shrieked his name in blue murder, your body melting into his as you held onto one another, riding the wave to a distant land of milk and honey where your mutual fantasies were fulfilled by greedy hands and even greedier sex drives. Nero set you down carefully, ensuring you were fine to stand on your own under the cascading water and cupped you at your jaw, kissing you in vain contrast to his display moments ago; he pacified your mind to its rightful state, running his hands over your form to bring energy to the worn-out muscles. "Let's get you cleaned up, love."

Your fingers tingled out of his touch as he fetched your sponge and scented body wash; he drizzled the liquid all over, letting the sponge soak under the water before turning all of his attention to you. Nero had no idea of the state he left you in, only now coming to terms with what that last orgasm did to you. "Keep your eyes on me, okay?" He couldn't help but smile, knowing he'd turned you into a living, breathing zombie. "I'll take care of you."

Your hair matted to your frozen face, still heavy in the after effects of his unscripted hit on your cracking mind. All you could do was stand still while he roamed your frame, lathering your body in bubbles and soap while you held him tight fearing you'd topple over any second; air expelled from your lungs the closer he scrubbed you intimately, needing the broadness of his shoulders for support as he traversed upward to your back – a relatively safe area – made dangerous by his lips at the crook of your neck. He stepped back and held your hands tightly for a douse, moving your hair accordingly. Now washed and clean, you opened your eyes to see your biggest sin fiddle with your bottle of shampoo, squeezing a portion into his palm. "Your lips are not to leave mine, understand?"

You nodded, his hands delicate in your hair. "Say it."

You swallowed at the implication; fair and square, you were under his spell with no escape in sight. "My lips… are not to leave yours."

As a reflex your face buried itself in his toned chest as the white froth thickened against the base of your scalp. "Good girl." Nero tugged your strands again, leaving your mouth open to devour at his own will and pace, your hands resting on his silky hips and moving to the small of his back as he seduced you by your roots, massaging the tension and tiredness from your frame while enticing you with his mouth and being in the perfect position to deepen it at a moment's notice; he kissed you famished, starved for too long from his inevitable hold on you and playing with the threads of your sanity until there was nothing more you could give, standing as a shell of your former self encased in his touch, his masculinity… his scent.

He held your hair under the water for a quick rinse, separating the tangles for a leisurely wash free of stress and tightly looped it around his first, wringing the excess out of your hair. "That should do it, right?"

Where you found the vitality to smile and laugh would be the world's biggest mystery. "My own personal stylist, who would've guessed?" Your hands found his colossal chest as he reached behind you to turn the taps, ceasing the dull humming of the droplets hitting the floor as he positioned himself in front of you, his hands merciful at the prickling skin of your neck.

"I'm your new personal everything, baby," he said, sealing the promise to your blushing, plump lips.


	3. Nightcap

Your lips were tingling at the sudden loss of his kiss, leaving the shower and claiming three fresh towels from the heating rack for you both; wrapping one tightly around his waist he began patting you dry, reaching between your fingers and toes and in the dips and curves of your body before setting it in place under your arms, taking a much smaller one and removing as much excess water from your hair as he could by fluffing the towel through it and suddenly stopping, lingering at his fine handiwork at the light dusting of vanilla essence through your strands. Nero chuckled at your ear, kissing its shell as meekly as his body would allow. "God, you smell amazing."

His breath was boiling on your ear, snaking through every nerve of your spine as you turned your head to whisper into his jaw. "Sex does that to you sometimes."

Your fingers hooked on the material of his towel, dipping into its tightness in the hope of getting a good feel before he left you alone; at too inquisitive a grasp, the whole thing unravelled and fell to the shower floor, leaving him open for a full scrutiny of his naked body. You took a step back to take it all in, seeing as some parts of him needed a wider range of vision than others, biting deep into your knuckles to either wake you up from the cruellest dream or have part of your bloodstream flow from the wound. You were hoping for the latter; he purposely turned and bent to rescue his one way ticket to decency and giving you an impressive front row seat to the finest ass you would ever see. "No love, it's just with me." He threw it across his shoulders this time. "I'm gonna grab my clothes from downstairs-"

"You didn't bring clothes." And as much as you knew your plan would backfire, you still wanted to keep him naked and in view for as long as you could.

He scratched the back of his head, showing off those sculpted arms and chest. "You didn't look inside the sleeping bag, did you? Then again, you also didn't know I had no intention of sleeping on the couch either, so we can both get a point."

Nero bent forward and pursed his lips for a congratulatory kiss. "You're sneaky."

"I'm prepared," he says, a smirk in place so toxic it could surely disintegrate the towel wrapped around your damp everything. "I'll see you in a bit then?" He lifted your gaze to meet his for his answer; you nodded in his hand, smiling as he chose to rather walk away than to rile you up straight after that cleansing shower. He turned the knob as you trod to your vanity, plugging in the small hairdryer you kept under the basin. "Oh, and ummm… Don't make me wait – you know what happens when you make me wait." His hands were on his hips at the open door, practically daring you to avert your eyes to anything but his impressive package hanging low down his leg; Nero scratched the light dusting of hair under his belly button, keeping your eyes glued to him as opposed to obeying his verbal decree. He looked up you innocently, agitated that the apparatus in your shaky hands wasn't doing what it was supposed to. "What's wrong?"

At long last he dragged your attention away from his dick. "Oh I'm sorry – little Nero and I was having a telepathic chat. Did you say something?"

He looked down at his waist, shifting his body weight onto one of his three legs. "Little?"

You managed to divert your attention to the mirror, turning on the wavering hum of the equipment in your hands. "I'M SORRY, WHAT? DID YOU SAY SOMETHING?" His tongue was in his cheek as he left you to do your thing, the whizz of the hairdryer drowning out the sound of his deflating ego.

* * *

The fact that no force on earth could make your hair dry faster made you furious. You tried to imagine Nero biding his time, wandering around your room looking for something to do or find and inadvertently crossing your legs it wasn't one of the toys you had to lie about. You paid more caution to your surroundings, looking beyond your reflection in the mirror to the door in case Nero tried to corner you again, the hairdryer making much more noise than the soothing water from before.

You stepped out of the bathroom after a few deep, girly, giggly, ecstatic, almost teary breaths and saw him stretched on the bed looking mouth-wateringly irresistible: a figure-hugging pair of black skinny jeans sat snug in all the right places, tucked neatly into a pair of military-style calf-high combat boots; a plain white vest adorned his muscular build, covered by a checked navy blue and black shirt that was probably rolled up to his elbows, paired with a dark, thick, warm coat which he popped at the collar; a sterling-silver chain hung loosely under his shirt while his family rings graced his index and ring finger on his left hand; a wide, dark blue double-strapped leather wrist guard and folded bandana around his right thigh finished off his regal look, and you could only stare in admiration at how good he made everything look. Nero loved that he managed to colour-code his wardrobe to his glowing limb, making it seem more part of him than as an attachment owing to successful experimentation.

His eyes never left your body as you sauntered to your closet in nothing but a towel, holding it together under your arms while figuring out how to coordinate your clothes to his. You turned to check the colours again, his pale skin mixing with the dark hues nicely. "You can drop the towel, if it'll make things easier."

He had control over it twice now, yet you were still embarrassed because of the unavailability of moonlight and dampened sight to conceal your insecurities. "Why would I do that?"

Nero stood and straightened his outfit, reaching his full height and making him look more ethereal than before; why he'd decided to move to the small, sinkable couch in the corner of the room made sense by his logic alone. He sat comfortably and spread his legs, the jeans tightening around his waist and the bandanna pulling taut on the strong muscle, leaning forward onto his knees with his elbows like a king on his throne. "My tongue has been on everything you're trying to hide. I don't see the use for it, that's all."

Why did he have to mention his tongue of all things? "Fine," was all you said, unhooking the material at the corner of your chest and letting it fall to the floor, the front of your frame in his deadly sights as he sat up straighter to take it all in. "But you're not allowed to judge anything I put on."

He chuckled deeply, scratching his lip with his claw. "Why put on anything anyway? I'm gonna rip it off at some point." He rubbed his hands from the cold and gazed outside your balcony door as you searched for suitable attire, fully ready to be upstaged by the specimen in the corner of your room. "But now that you've mentioned it, there's a really nice cake shop I wanted to visit; good coffee too, and I know that's your favourite. Only if you want to, I mean, we could stay here, and-"

"You don't have to take me out to tell me that I shouldn't tell anyone about this. My lips are sealed for as long as you need them to be."

Nero gawked unbelievingly, befuddled by the words that came out of your mouth. "Love, what are you talking about?"

You had seen it countless times; a night between the sheets with the ultimate protagonist of your own story, having him stay the night only to have him sweep you off your feet once more, taking you to some fancy restaurant or café as bribe money to keep your mouth shut. You failed to see how different your reality was from the movies, that Nero was actual flesh and blood who made you pine and whimper at how good he'd made you feel, taking pride in his endeavour to call you his through every manner possible – all you saw were the negatives, the outlandish conclusions constructed by farfetched love stories acutely etched in your brain for all the wrong reasons. He was unlike all of them; why couldn't you see that? "You don't have to try and make me feel good if you're just going to tell me-"

"That I want to take my girlfriend out for lunch at breakfast time?"

Your jaw dropped at the title; it had a stunning ring to it, so you spun on your heel to seek a hint of a joke on his gorgeous face. "Your girlfriend?" His face only screamed 'no duuuuuh!' "Since when?"

"I asked you last night… for four hours…" Thankfully he didn't see you blush as you retracted and replaced hanger after hanger of clothing items not fit for his level of perfection. "And then you said yes in the shower." You had to stop there and then, reaching for a stable surface as the morning's events replayed in your head; you didn't object to it, but the warm feeling in your chest felt… new? Refreshing? Like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders with one word? Was it knowing you no longer had to fight for his affection, that it was in the palm of your hands this entire time? "Do you really think we can go back to being friends after what I did to you? Sweety, you're mine. All mine. A little unconventional, but that's the way I do things. It's the first time I've ever done it like that, but there was no other way."

You were facing in the opposite direction, smiling and giggling into your hands and faking a stern voice to pick on the subject matter some more. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean 'what do I mean'?" As if repeating the question would make his answer reveal itself as clear as day. "We were made for each other, baby girl; I saw this happening the day we met. I teased you a lot, sure, but you never gave an outright answer or even vaguely hinted towards feeling anything for me-"

"I have loved you for the longest time, Nero." You were talking to yourself, albeit just loud enough for him to hear you.

He tried keeping the glint out of his voice and failed miserably, his eyes rivalling the saucers in your kitchen. "You… you what? Did you just say what I thought you said?"

You shook your head. "I said nothing. Now can I please get dressed now? Your icy stare doesn't help when it's freezing already."

You weren't half as cold as you claimed, a heat trapped inside your bloodstream boiling across the veins in your form scorching you all over, like the tiny strike of a match to a pool of gasoline bursting into flame under his words. Your underwear compartment was strategically placed, right at the bottom for easy location and making you feel sexy while you retrieved the sinful pieces from Temptations or Victoria Secret; you held two options in your hands, weighing the pros and cons on purpose for Nero to chime in but no comment came. You opted for the traditional black lace, similar to the one Nero ripped off you the night before: half cup with extra hidden surprises the more you searched, veiling part of your stomach in intricate patterns only lace could conquer; the two clips behind the contraption should have been a piece of pie for you to tie, but it kept falling out of place the second you moved to claim the other half of the set.

The accidental cold brush of a finger gave him away after your third try. "Could you not? You're making this harder."

His head was lazy on his other fist, his bringer singing next to him and waiting for your next try at uselessly putting on your clothes. "Tell me what you said."

"I didn't say anything-"

"You're lying." He flexed his glowing, gigantic claws. "I'll get more annoying."

Your eyes rolled in their sockets as you bent to pull your panties on: matching boy shorts hugging your ass tightly, barely covering your bits in bows of ribbon and wound fabric – you wished you could see his face as you slipped them on, mentally adding cartoon steam to his ears as he gave you the once over. Sadly, being the playful menace he was, your dream was short-lived as the ribbon around your left hip came undone. Fine. As you tied it back up again, the other mysteriously came loose. You relished in a battle won, surviving ten seconds of being fully clothed until the whole thing was wrenched to the floor, nearly tripping you into your cupboard. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Tell me what you said." He was in the same position as before, looking nonchalantly at you like your slipping panties were your fault. "Say you love me to my face and I'll stop."

Again, you let your guard down, huffing at picking your underwear off the floor and not hearing him march to you. "I didn't say that-"

"Don't make me do this." Nero was at your ear, his breath hot at the back of your neck and triggering the prickling skin down your spine. "You just got out of a shower; the last thing you need is to get dirty again."

His hands found your hips in tender strokes up the sides of your body, his mouth at your ear roughly tugging your head to the side to dip his head into the crook of your neck as the pads of his fingers sneaking under the expensive material and dragging it just enough for it to fall on its own. Your arms raised themselves by sheer will, digging at the strands of his soft hair; giving in looked like the only solution, with Nero's fingers so close to your folds he was a second away from dipping into you. "I said I've loved you for the longest time."

He stopped to your utter relief. "Again."

And you saw fit to outdo your last revelation; you pulled his head to face yours, kissing him over your shoulder. "I love you, Nero." The second one was weightier, making it more real to both of you in finally admitting it out loud for him to hear and savour, bouncing around his thick skull until it seeped into his brain; you could stand and bask in the foreign concept he was for days on end, looking at him through new eyes and an even bigger heart in taking pleasure at the guilt-free thoughts of him that plagued your mind for as long as you could remember.

He pulled you backward and set you between his legs as he sat on the bed, holding you firmly to him across your tummy; light kisses prickled the skin on your back, his teeth biting the expanse of your shoulders like a crazed man set off by four impossibly simple words. Nero held you closer and you returned the favour, leaning into his frame and looking up at him with every ounce of your love for him. You could feel the lump in your throat at this small token of his appreciation made all the more intense when he stared back at you with a refreshing, sober undertone to his smile. "I love you too, I hope you know that."

You did, but it didn't take away from hearing it fall from his lips. "Now can I please get dressed?"

You knew it was futile, but try you would. "No." He unclipped the clasps on your bra and fell back onto the bed, knowing you would turn at the immediate loss of his body heat. "I need to taste you one more time before my mouth is ruined by sponge and frosting." Nero guided you to a straddling position, pulling your frame by your thighs until your sex lined up with his mouth, grappling your legs in his tightest vice and set to work at making you crumble under that beautiful, wet, swollen tongue of his as his iced orbs burned your naked body to ash.

You did make him wait after all…


	4. Midnight snacks

Nero left you on all fours on the bed, forcing you to lean forward on your arms for support as he licked that final orgasm out of you and leaving you clawing at your chest while the scream sizzled inside your lungs. Once you were clean, he lifted your butt and slid from underneath you onto his feet, having to wipe very little moisture from the sides of his face. You sat on your knees and silenced your aching heart that had to put in overtime to regulate your breathing, clenching the soft sheets of your bed between your fingers as a last ditched effort to quell the long, dragging moans still erupting from your lips. "Now why did you go and do that?"

He was sucking his fingers and cherishing your taste for as long as he could. "I wanted to. You looked so good in nothing and I had already teased you enough to nullify that shower, so I figured I'd help out in keeping you as clean as I possibly could, given the circumstances."

Nero had the habit of standing half in and half out of any door he encountered, wanting to leave and also wanting to get the last word in should the other half of the conversation say anything under their breath; you barely had anything in your lungs after his hearty breakfast of your liquid orgasm, evident as ever in the unmistakable outline of his body against your white-painted door. "And I'm guessing you don't need any help with that problem?"

"I get a boner when I'm hungry." That was strangely believable in your books; if it were legal to marry or covet with food, he'd be the first to try. He tried to be serious, hiding his arousal by leaning against the doorframe and lifting his visible leg at the knee, his combat boots finding easy footing on the smooth piece of wood. "There's still pizza downstairs, right?"

You nodded. "Keep me a few slices?"

He stood to his normal height once, proving his endeavour pointless – was it possible for him to have swollen some more behind the rigid fabric? "You'll have to hurry then. I eat things really fast when I need to… on purpose."

You would have shot up where you were and used your energy reserve to beat him to the kitchen, but that almighty sneer he gave you as his bringer disappeared behind the door kept you well in place on your knees, forcing you to crunch your teeth as you stood and changed to a more simplistic bottom covering with minimal added extras for no one's benefit. It was only ten in the morning and the cold breeze of the town had yet to pick up; the sun was shining brightly through your glass windows and heated the room quickly as you found an old pair of snug black ugg boots to go with your new chosen lace and your favourite pink hoodie – the one who's soft, woolly insides kept the warm in and the cold out – before trekking down the stairs with the shred of confidence Nero had yet to shatter by means of any one of his limbs.

There was, however, no need to hurry: he was a lazy bugger on weekends, taking sixty minutes instead of twenty to do a five minute job simply because there was 'no rush' as he did things 'on his own time'. Naturally, your burst of oomph came too early for his liking as he was still taking the pizza out of the oven to ready it for the microwave. What kind of human was he, to heat up one slice of pizza when there was a functioning oven close by? You knew it wasn't his first choice of junk food so you couldn't blame him for dishonouring the culinary feat, and you took it upon yourself to teach him how it was properly done and how you liked it. You had to, correct? You were now an item, indirectly, so where was the harm?

"Would you mind stepping aside, Nero?" He wasn't expecting to hear your voice so soon, let alone wander in your flat wearing the outfit you were; the box dropped out of his hands and onto the counter, flexing his hands out of need to keep them away from you. "What you were about to do would break my heart into tiny, tiny pieces."

To your utter stroke of genius, every piece of cutlery you needed were at the bottom and far back of your kitchen cupboards; the single flat metal tray and the pizza cutter gift set from your mother set in a deep corner already collecting dust, to which you rightfully got on your hands and knees to retrieve, an extra deep arch to your back and a slight lift to the hoodie as payback for what he had just done to you. You dampened the cloth at the sink and gently wiped at the layer of dust on the tray, ripping the box at the corners and sliding the entire pizza onto it for a perfect fit. You gave him the flattened box to tear, to which he stood still gaping at your frame. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm gonna reheat the whole thing in the oven." You knew that wasn't what he was referring to, but feigning it seemed much more fun and would ultimately land you in less trouble. "Mind throwing that away for me?" You meant the huge bin outside; what you heard behind you could only be described as the most heated and entertained flurry of cardboard flying in every direction, turning with his eyes burning into your soul as tiny chunks sat happily in his claw, small enough to be thrown in the kitchen trash. Nero's iced ceruleans never left you as you continued to dance in the kitchen, preheating the oven for a few minutes until it was ready, declining his help and stretching as you saw fit at the high-set oven; with slightly parted legs your perky posterior was on full display for an in-depth scrutiny from the whining soul at the other end of your kitchen, turning the dial to a higher temperature for the cheese to return to its melting consistency. "Would you like some coffee? You look thirsty."

The kettle was right next to the sink, but that didn't stop you from 'accidentally' forgetting your surroundings and walking around the island counter to bend in front of it fill with water. "Don't make mine too strong; would hate to overload and bounce off your walls by the time we get home." He couldn't even think of anything smart to say, so he just resorted to his high intelligence? Oh, you were doing well – you gave yourself a mental pat on the back, and you were only at thirty seven percent completion of your milking operation.

You took the occasional peek in your blind spot and watched him lose his grip on reality slowly but surely, never interrupting your work but having to remember to keep himself in check in case something awful were to happen in the place that made you most happy. You passed him his black coffee and moved with purpose for one last glance at the pizza; while switching the contraption off you caught his face in the reflection in the metal-glass door, biting the corner of his lip as your eyes made contact. "You think I don't know what you're doing?"

You grabbed your mug of coffee and sauntered to him, sitting in the opposite seat of the bench and facing the very bane of your existence. "I'm not doing anything, Nero. It must be your imagination." You gave him an innocent look and sipped your ambrosia, concealing any part of your open body away from him. "I have no reason to do what you think I'm doing, nor would I ever think of doing what you think I'm doing. So why would I? What I'm not doing is everything you think I'm doing, and that's your fault. Not mine."

He tapped his fingers on the table, narked in high spirits. "God, don't do that..."

"Do what?"

He dipped his middle finger in the liquid tar, tracing it around the rim of the ceramic. "That thing you do when you speak fast using concepts under similar circumstances and confusing me when the only thing I can think of is dragging you up those stairs and-"

"And what, Nero? You've exhausted your extensive library; right now, all you can do is sit on that biteable ass and eat pizza with me." You set your mug aside and climbed on the table like a wild tigress crawling across the small gap and stopping within an inch of his face, urgency and earnest glossing your piercing stare. "That is all I will permit until I get that damn cake…" Your tongue darted into his mouth in a single deep stroke for good measure, your hand twining with his strands to pull his head back as your teeth got hold of his bottom lip. "So stay there and be my good boy."

A small ding sounded from the oven and you leaped off the table, empowered by your actions and the fact that he actually listened to you; the heat of the tray almost boiled through your industrial strength oven mitts as you pulled it from the oven and straight onto the counter, plating two slices each.

Nero moved into your side as you sat, stretching his claw on the cushion behind you and sweetly kissing the visible part of your neck. "That's my girl," he says, his eyes unmoving from your frame as your left hand squeezed his inner thigh almost making him choke on the tiny bite he took from his meal; you used your index to spread his legs, thanking the gods he wore no belt this time, and popped the tiny button and zipper homing the final act for the morning. He continued chewing at the breathing space you provided until his jaw locked as skin rubbed skin, your warm hands holding no control over what was to happen next as you casually ate your slice, enclosing him in your fist and using your wrist to move the tight material lower on his hips and bringing his erection out for some much needed air. He hardened in your grasp, dropping his food into his plate and licking his lips while his head fell into the supporting cushion, his blue eyes rolling back into his skull.

"There's a good boy."

* * *

You locked the front door behind you, warmly dressed and ready to have your socks knocked off; Nero waited for you at your car as you stuffed your keys into your backpack and made your way to him, walking up the main street side by side; he playfully bumped into you as you walked, knocking you slightly off balance and seeing you struggle in getting him to move any remote number of inches across the street. It was unlike anything you had pictured, something as simple as a walk made extraordinary by the simplest means possible, comforted in knowing you were undoubtedly safe with him by your side, come what may.

You reached for his hand as a truce to his relentless play, caressing the blue and red scales until you felt the squishy part of his blue palm to which he reacted immediately, hovering to the other side of your frame and grabbing you hand. "What's that for?"

Nero looked to you as if you should know the reason for his awkward behaviour, scratching the back of his head with his claw. "I'm holding your hand."

"But why did you go all the way over there?" Oh yes, that's right; many of his insecurities had stemmed from the fact that only one of his hands were normal, having to adjust to daily life not using his stronger hand and becoming ambidextrous in the process – you couldn't believe that something so small still bothered him, with you especially, but on the other hand that thing was pretty damn unpredictable at times. You didn't go near it unless Nero gave you the go-ahead or when it called out to you begging to be touched for his sake, but it was still as foreign as he believed it to be, and that was a notion you had to respect. "It won't hurt me-"

"How do you know that?"

He looked up ahead, now walking in a straight line with the frisky zigzag out of his system. You were sure he was nervous, also anticipating when this particular conversation was bound to come up and getting ready to face the music at the one aspect of him that you now had to get used to. Who were you kidding; you loved the thing since the first day and it loved you; the communication channels might have been clogged up in his ears from those bloody headphones he wore all day. "I don't." You were being honest – you really had no clue, but if it were to hurt you wouldn't it have had the job done during the fifteen plus years you'd known one another? It was weak reasoning at its finest but it's all you had, and that's what would have to do for now.

You followed his action and pushed him to your left, carefully lacing your fingers between the individual glowing digits; Nero couldn't believe you at that point, choosing to rather let it stew than argue a point he'd already lost as you smiled away at the warming limb, holding it sternly between both your hands. Being the tall hunk he was, you had to tilt your head to gage his expression; to your own undoing he was in the perfect position to kiss you, utilising a single finger to pull you to your tippy toes and lay a nice deep one on you.

"You're adorable when you get your way, you know that?"

You knew it, but that was your new official favourite line to stem from him, aside from 'come in my mouth' or your ultimate favourite, 'I won't stop until your legs are shaking and the neighbours know my name'. What could you say; you were dirty at heart – some cuteness was certain to pull through.

It was a quaint shop that you missed if you weren't paying attention, the mysterious hues and light pastel colours suited for a best kept secret in Nero's books; at twelve in the afternoon it was surprisingly full, bustling with esteemed men and women from all across town – no, really, the way they were dressed wasn't matched for a day out with cake, looking like most of them were on their way to the office or just finishing up an important business meeting; both of you were clothed in quite the opposite and you were tempted to turn back and find something a little more appropriate for the place. You checked your outfit once again and it wasn't all that bad but it wasn't as nice as the ones you were currently gaping at; he could have at least warned you-

"NERO! What brings you here on a weekend? Had enough of those dusty books I see!" Your interest piqued at the loss of warmth to your hand, watching your beloved storm the entrance to the shop and encase a man taller than him in the cutest bear hug you'd ever seen. The distaste in the waitron's face was obvious, his pride taking a knock at being picked up so easily but laughing all the same at the chance to see him. "So what's the story this time? Did you get a ninety seven on a maths test and you simply couldn't wait to drown your sorrows in some blueberry cheeseca-" While the man in uniform spoke, Nero lovingly ushered you to his side and you obeyed, letting him lead you through the unfamiliar environment that was his world; a world you knew nothing about owing to him being too chopped off for society to handle. His hand rested at the small of your back, tickling the warm skin and earning a giggle from you while he kissed your temple. "So this is her…?"

Her? He told them about you? You were almost upset that he missed out on two warnings, but the gentle smile against your skin dissolved any and every thought you had instantaneously; you hid your blushing face in his chest, unable to handle the attention he was giving you. "It is."

Nero nudged you forward slightly into the man's extended hand. "My lady," he said; they were unexpectedly soft and warm, closing both of his own around yours. "It is so good to finally put a face to a name." Goodness, wasn't he gorgeous; up close his undercut black hair and piercing green eyes made him look like he was taken from a haunting fairy-tale ending, the definitive villain that the princess might have picked over the hero because of the endless galaxies she could wander in his eyes whilst raking her fingers downward to the waistband of his-

"He has that effect on everyone. Don't feel guilty."

You had no idea you were staring, but feeling guilty you would not. "Use it, please; don't get all fancy on me. I might not be able to understand you."

He let go of your hand for you to return to your own tailored prince charming, standing with his hands in his pockets and chuckling at the expected action. "That happened to me the first time too," and as much as it was something you'd kill to see, your eyebrows still shot up at the concept of Nero loving someone else; there was no doubt he could pull it off, but that would be a sin the world couldn't forgive. "I mean, why not? He's stunning! He was the first person to ever make me second guess my sexuality."

Nero took you by the hand and led you further into the establishment, cutely hooking his fingers into yours as he blindly led you with the lightest of touches. "Was he the only one?"

Nero shook his head. "Another two followed after him, but you'll see what I'm talking about soon enough."

Soon enough? Before you could contemplate and internalise anything he'd said your edible waiter returned as a godsend, and again wiping your consciousness clean of every question you needed to ask both of them. "Your usual table, Nero?" It seemed a two-way streak, giving his confirmation with a sultry wink and having him lead them to a secluded corner table beyond another double door surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows and a view to die for; every article in front of you was delicate and meticulously placed, right down to the tassels flowing in the gentle breeze that had picked in the short time you took to find your seats. "You'll have your normal?" He was speaking to Nero, pulling out the chair that faced the greenery outside and giving you a handsome smile, your go ahead to take the open seat as he tucked you in.

Nero took the chair to your left as you hoped he'd become part of the view. "Please."

The heavenly stranger leaned on the back of your chair. "And for the beautiful one who's clearly out of your league?"

He was laying it on thick; it's his job and you weren't complaining. "I thought you were referring to him," you said coyly, wanting to join in on the game as innocently as possible. "I will have whatever he's having."

Wow, a sophisticated palate too? You could either be setting yourself for a world of hurt or finding out certain facts about Nero he wanted to keep under wraps for your protection, but the more you stepped into and soaked in his world, no harm could befall wanting to see him outside of how he was with you. You thought you knew all there was to him, and you were suddenly intrigued at this entire other side of the matchbox; the part that pays no interest to the ones who were arsonists by nature but a vital role for the individuals lighting their first candle. "Two lemongrass and rose water granitas with Absolut vodka..." your waiter broke your train of thought and brought you back to reality, giving you a look that required a nod of confirmation before he complete his sentiment. The drink sounded exotic as it was foreign, even more so than the day you were having. You gave him a smile and he continued, providing you the option to change your mind. "…coming up."

You turned and watched him float to the bar in the corner you had missed on the way in as he pulled out a huge metal tray he shouldn't have been capable of lifting himself; the man to your left was deep in thought, troubled almost, with his fingers laced underneath his chin. Nero was completely different from how he had been the moments leading up to this and you thought best to try and get his mind off things with a quick slap to his noggin. "You could have warned me."

He chuckled at the hand that had found his outer thigh. "About what?"

"Your secret high life of luxury." Your other hand swept the atmosphere as if he were blind of the intricacy and elegance surrounding him.

"This isn't my secret-" The door to their compartment opened once again; two strapping figures slipped through, greeted the waiter at the bar to place their order and caught his eye, one offering an age-defying smile to the bartender grabbing at the bottle of vodka for their drinks. "Hold that thought, they're here."

They? More than one? Okay, this was number three-

"Long time no see, kid." The sentence rang in your ears and impaled your skull.

"Brother, he has a name; use it." Again, the sultry sound stabbed you in the chest. Why?

"Can't do that – I've only ever used it once and it left a bad taste on my tongue."

"Please don't forget we are in his lady's company; do your best to display all the manners you have so proudly disposed of all those years ago."

Your back was to the bickering pair. What was up with these two? "She'll love me anyway-"

"And no flirting either."

A smile had covered Nero's face as yours shaded over in psychedelic pink, watching the scene unravel through his features. "Oh come ooooooooon-"

"You will be gracious, Dante. Accept the boundaries this time."

Your mind told you not to; you'd find out in a few seconds who they were and you fought with your spine to rotate on the spot, but you didn't have to. A big, scorching hand found its way to your shoulder and unknowingly froze you on the spot; you did what you could to stand up, your eyes assailed by the owner of the hand that was now in your line of sight – tall, broad shouldered, and more handsome than the voices that had led on; silver hair you imagined to be softer than any marshmallow you have ever touched; a pair of crystal clear, penetrating blue orbs more comforting than a summer's breeze; plump, kissable lips above a jawline that came a close second to Nero; a strong, smooth, creamy neck sitting on a pronounced muscular torso leading down to a slim, lean waist, legs that stretched as far as your line of sight allowed itself to see; the pair of Converse made sense somehow, adding a steady amount of mischievousness to his character that was fitting to what you were looking at. He wore black and red as if it were created for him, tight enough to leave the right amount of imagination to be put to good use and captivating for you to want to see more. You clutched his extended hand with the least sensual of smiles, not wanting to get into trouble with your boyfriend; the stranger did the same but on the opposite end of the stick, daring you to look away at his impressive feat of seducing you by mere touch. "That's Dante; one of them." At the mention of his name he scrunched his nose, showing an adorable side to the stout hunk of a man he was.

The other voice from before sounded directly behind you. "Dante, stop that."

"I'm greeting her, Vergil." The hand on your back moved with him as he floated to Nero's side, letting go of yours and enveloping him in a sweet hug destined to give you toothache later in the day. "She's the one doing the staring."

Nero chimed in, nuzzling into Dante's chest like a child who'd lost his favourite toy on the playground. "Let her get it out of her system; it's not like you can blame her." His shoulders shook at the end of a hearty laugh with the bigger man joining him, kindly and easily resting his cheek on his head.

What on earth was going on? "Not the most sound piece of advice to give your girlfriend…" The other carried out the same action and received the same reaction as before; he looked exactly like Dante but with a different hairstyle, facial expression, and manner of clothing – he preferred the colder palette, sporting baby and navy blue hues in his attire and the same pair of shoes as Dante. There was a different aura to him, however, one that superseded the red-clad figure and sat restlessly at the tip of your tongue yet narrowing it to a logical thought would take up too much of your time and brain capacity; you were sure that tightly-wrapped scarf hid subtle, irresistible nuances to his demeanour, chiselled for purposes beyond your likelihood and area of expertise. You extended your hand and he took it gracefully, holding it by your fingers and placing a small kiss to it. "I apologise for my brother. He gets away with murder by the simplest means of a smirk in your direction."

And so well-said by someone who knew the advantages of the very gesture, holding the capability of amplifying it to the most formidable power; definitely more calculated and precise, you thought to yourself, knowing what he wants and how he wanted it, a refined delicious predator as opposed to the carefree soul standing by the seat directly opposite you. "And that's Vergil; the other one." The aforementioned gave you a charming smirk as he left your hand and shifted a few steps to the seat to your right, leaning over the table to shake Nero's hand. "They're twins, just in case you knew and needed confirmation."

You understood – fully. If you were to lose to any of the three, you'd be more than happy. Nero would be in good hands; big, soft, loving hands. Your three companions all stood at their seats, waiting for you to be seated first. Why did they have to be well-mannered too? "Can we sit now? My legs can't handle you four."

"Four?" They followed your lead as you sat and pointed to the footsteps making its way to your table; he balanced a tray full of drinks in one hand and a heavy wooden block in the other, his pitch-black cropped waves flowing behind him like a superhero cape to rescue you and your feigned damsel in distress alarm that only you heard in your head. "Oh, you've taking a liking to Lars?"

"That's his name?" You were so caught up in the complexity of it all you didn't even think to look at his bloody nametag. "He's really handsome."

Their server placed their drinks on an adjacent table, shifting their cutlery and setting the big block of wood in the centre; on it were a selection of spheres and cubes covered in different flavours of what you assumed to be chocolate and frosting assisted by elegant gold script underneath. He handed over the drinks to their respective choosers, giving each a warning of the temperature of their selected beverage. "I'll hover back in a few minutes to get your orders."

Lars was about to tend the new flurry of customers at the door but you stopped him on his way, lightly grazing his wrist as he passed your seat. "I'm sorry, but what is this?"

The green-eyed wonder turned on the balls of his feet and held your hand tenderly as he explained, his attention solely on you and your cute puzzlement. "That's today's menu, my dear; those are the cakes we currently have on the shelves." He leaned over your left shoulder hand pointing to the gold lettering, purposely swathing you in his striking scent. "Underneath are their names and any allergens contained within them. The rest is a surprise that you have to work out for yourself."

An interactive menu? They gave out cake for free? "What is this place?"

He looked toward Vergil who sipped at his hazelnut latte and then at you. "The owner is right next to you, ask him; there's method to his madness but be sure to use base level English when speaking to him." Lars melted your kneecaps again before making an interrupted retreat, closing the oak door behind him for some privacy.

That was number four. "This is your shop?"

To your demise he began untying the scarf on his neck. "Nero didn't tell you?"

"In my defence I was about to." He held his straw in his hands mixing his drink while the other searched for yours to hold; he found it quickly, pulling it out of your lap and entwining them in the space between you. He was taking ownership now, visibly illustrating where your loyalties lied despite the earlier harmless flirting and reminding you of his earlier pledge.

You copied his activities and mixed your makeshift cocktail, taking a hearty swig and having it amaze you at its smoothness. For a frozen drink it was not what you expected. "It's amazing, Vergil."

The blue brother bowed his head. "Thank you." He might not have shown it, but he was very proud of the establishment he renovated from the ground up: previously an old vintage boutique, he changed very little about the structure and instead added a few walls here and there, keeping the weathered ambience as an extra feature to the endeavour; the tables and chairs were tasteful and dear to the theme, and the menu reflected both old-aged classics and modern twists to them – a few names on the board you hadn't heard or seen expressed their creative talents in a competing industry. "And you sound shocked."

He squeezed your hand, wrenching your attention from the pastry chef. "Too delicate for him, right?"

Vergil's eyebrows shot up as he set his glass on the table wearing a frothy moustache. "I can be delicate, Nero."

"No, you can't Vergil." His brother calmly added for extra effect, nonchalantly drinking from his Chai-spiced cappuccino and pulling a face at the multifaceted tastes that went into making it; he sat back snuggly into his chair and gave you a tempting wink, turning to his brother and mentally readying his best comebacks for anything he had to say in return.

He took the bait. "And what do you know, Dante?"

"Much more than I should, brother."

Vergil's face was steel, a direct contrast to Dante's bottom lip clamped between his teeth, inviting his brother for a jab to his scaling temperament. Nero called you to him with a single finger, leaning into your neck to whisper into your ear. "They bicker a lot; sometimes to argue the exact same point." His breath was hot on your neck; it hit you so hard you'd forgotten what he'd said in the seconds he asked the twins a question. "Do you know what you want?"

Blue brother nodded. "Blue velvet with extra velvet."

You looked to Nero for clarification. "Cake shaped alcohol, basically."

Dante flicked his fingers over the board and chose one at random, triumphantly popping it into his mouth and regretting it instantly. "Of all the things, I had to grab spinach." Vergil had done countless experimentation with both fruits and vegetables, the more logically reasonable making the menu as opposed to the attempt at making the horrible sound like something you wanted to eat. He did it again, reading the name this time and sinking into his chair at how good it was. "Can never go wrong with chocolate."

You were curious. "What's in there?"

"I have no clue but it tastes amazing." He kept on chewing, letting himself fall in love with it even more each individual ingredient hit his taste buds.

Vergil leaned forward and inspected the name. "In a nutshell: chocolate sponge, coffee cream, caramel fudge, normal whipped cream and essence of vanilla and white chocolate. You can have shaved almonds on request." He tried undeniably hard to keep the smugness from his face at his brother dying in one of his original creations, winning the bet that he could get him to eat anything sweet that wasn't a strawberry.

"And you, sweetheart?" Nero was staring at you, moving toward you again to speak softly; he knew how much you loved it when he whispered to you, an added gruffness to his voice at a lower decibel that was as enthralling to your senses. "You have anything in mind that you want?"

"I do."

He smiled as he looked to the board, nothing missing apart from Dante's two victims of his own game he played every time they came here. "You didn't try anything-"

"I wasn't talking about the cake…" Your honesty earned you a blushing hue to your cheeks, giggling at the face he had returned after your revelation. "Which one do you think I should take?"

Without looking at the board, he randomly pointed into thin air, miraculously singling one of them out. "That one. I'd feed it to you but the shell melts really quickly." Nero grabbed the sphere closest to him and held it between his fingers, illustrating his point before dropping it between his lips. "And we both know the problem I have with body temperature…" He smiled along with his chews, tucking his long hair behind his ear as his sharp jaw made mincemeat out of the delicacy; he licked at the spots where the soft chocolate had stained his hand, skilfully lapping at the dark sixty percent aphrodisiac; he knew what it did to you, ignoring the fact that you were practically drooling on the expensive tiles before hauling your attention to the man on your right, leaving your pending arousal hanging in mid-air. "Which one do you recommend she try, Vergil?"

"What is it that you like?" His sexy, velvet voice was no help to the pounding beneath your belly.

You turned to the discreet cake genius, blowing out a lungful of oxygen at how much attractiveness surrounded you. "Cake," you said with every possible ounce of truth in your voice, followed by an endearing chuckle from Dante; no comment, just him trying to conceal his cuteness behind his mug of spices.

Vergil straightened in his chair a little more composed than his brother, but the itch of a smile was evident across his flawless mouth. "The menu boards are laid out from mildest flavour to the most extreme combinations, bottom left to upper right. It all depends on your mood, what you're used to, and it's catered to be an easy guide to the newbies to choose the right slice for whatever reasons they may have." He looked at your cocktail and gave it a small whiff, swirling the tastes in his mouth while overlooking the board. "If we're going to pair it with what you're drinking, you should go for those three." You watched his finger float over three very different balls: _Orange Blossom, Devil's Kiss,_ and _Verry Berry_. "If you don't, these three would be a good start before you move to the more adventurous selection." _Angel Dust, Pryna,_ and _Traditional Mocha Sponge_. "Unless you prefer the deep end, in which case I simply cannot help you and you'd have to die finding out."

Sly, Vergil; very sly, and sitting at a table with three full grown men didn't help the innuendo either. "What qualifies as the deep end?"

"The entire back row – those are for experienced customers, ones that are used to our palate and style and are out to try something new. If one concept of flavour is your thing, don't go near those." Vergil was deep in thought as he took his fork to the lime green ball in the middle of the back row and slicing it in half, letting them fall onto their rounded sides to hold their portion of ooze. "You are more than welcome to have more than one slice, love."

He stabbed one half and handed it over to you with an expression that told you all you needed to know about what was going to happen to your mouth. "And what Dante had-" The fizz at the back of your jaw was your first sign that you were in trouble, the sugary mess effervescing all over your tongue before you had a chance to chew anything, "was a _Chocolate Marble_ , the favourite for the kids; it's the sweetest item in our repertoire, made with traditional flavours that blend together really well. There's a warning that there's coffee inside and they don't seem to mind." Vergil stuffed the other half into his mouth, wearing his stoic face and no hint of mind-boggling confusion. "What you just had was bubble-gum root beer; don't let the colours deceive you."

As delicious at it was, the flavour combination left your mouth itching; the granita relieved some of the scorch but the vodka did the opposite, fuelling the small spark and making you cough embers; Dante quickly added more ice to his water and handed it to you, glugging half in one gulp and breaking the ice between your teeth. "And you say I'm bad."

Vergil swallowed, your near-death-by-fire experience palliated by the chunk of cake moving down his throat. "What do you mean by that?"

Dante blindly snatched another, giving it a death stare should it dare taste weird. "You're condemning her soul to Hell by looking at her the way you are." The gawk seemed to work, seeing spots of red and cream cheese frosting and immediate jealousy that fate was being so nice to him. "Boundaries my ass; you should be ashamed."

"I'm trying to take her mind off the stunt Nero just pulled, which, just so you know, isn't fair by any standards." His eyebrow was raised and lips pursed toward the boy; Nero turned his head straight away missing the disapproval by the skin of teeth, but you basked in the look, deliberating every single one of your life choices and mentally hissing at him for looking as good as he did pretending to be pissed off. "You have no right to talk of boundaries, you rusty wooden spoon."

So Vergil had a mouth on him – nice; its potency dissolved under the laughs of the other two but deftly cunning he was with his cunning smile and no nonsense demeanour all cling-wrapped in exquisiteness and given a final coating of molten sex to hypnotize the hardest of catches. Was there anything he couldn't pull off? "Right now-" your fingers crossed the table, pointing to the twins in tandem, "-literal angels. I choose not to say anything for you at the moment." Nero feigned a pain in his chest as your hand consoled his inner thigh under the table; you were unstoppable, digging your nails into the sensitive skin deliberately close to your happy place but all he did was spur you on by trailing his fingers on the back of your hand, no plain giveaway that you were basically roughing it in public.

Lars returned out of nowhere, standing in the space between you and Vergil. "Oh goodness, who got the spin- I won't finish that sentence." He knew to turn to the one in red, shaking his head in mock disfavour. "When are you going to read the names for once? That's why we put them there."

"He can't read; please forgive him." Vergil sat back and wrapped his arm around Lars's leg while he dug into white locks, ironing random strands of hair in their proposed direction.

Yes, your eyes weren't deceiving you; you even looked around the room to make sure that reality was at your fingertips – you squeezed hard into Nero's skin and he yelped, further proving that there was definitely something between them; how professional and completely unexpected, but at no point did it fancy your tickle enough to ask – you'd just met them; you needed to get on their good side before the personal questions ensued. "What are you guys in the mood for?"

"Angel Dust for me, thanks." Nero hadn't tasted anything, so you assumed that was the one he always had; either that or it was the stripper name he chose for himself.

"Chocolate Marble and Red Velvet, please." The latter was a dead giveaway, and that tiny ball must have packed quite the punch to convince him.

"I'm going to have my usual, please." And again, all eyes were on you as you shook your head at the vast collection. "Bring her the in-house. Whatever she doesn't have she can take home."

"A refill on the drinks? Or will you wait for the sides?" Sides? You were scared to look at him owing to your questions, but he took the silence as sure fire you were clueless. Again. "Each cake comes with a speciality coffee, perfectly blended to enhance the overall experience. You're not allowed to choose your own; that's the only rule we have here." Being the purring beast he was, Vergil adjusted his head under Lars' ministrations, the scratch on his scalp too good not to take advantage of. "The in-house comes with two half portions, the other half we give upon your request – just in case you can't finish it, we can send you home with the other portions."

They really pulled out all the stops, didn't they? "He knows what he's talking about; I'll trust his gut on this one."

"Perfect. I'll be back shortly." He gave one irresistible look to Vergil and was on his way, pulling that dangerous hand off his frame as he fulfilled his duty to his customers and taking the half empty board with him.

It seemed like you were the only one to witness it as both Nero and Dante were in their own world, chatting and laughing about who knew what; they were huddled in their own bubble whispering to each other while Vergil sipped at his drink, watching you watch his every move. "Yes," he said, those eyes gazing at you over the rim of his mug. "Whatever you were thinking, the answer is yes." His dreamy stare sent a vicious wink in your direction; the next time you walked through those doors will be with your sanity damaged beyond repair.

* * *

If a single ordinary soul walked through the doors sealing your party off, they'd assume the worst, considering the raucous laughter and nonsense spewing from the three men at your table; turns out the twins played a major role for Nero when he moved out to join you in college so far away from home. He never bothered telling you about his troubles thinking it would burden you and your workload, wanting you to take your work seriously and not having to worry about him, but it sounded like it went far worse than you could have expected; the mental strain of not being at home, the unwarranted and inflexible hours with no proper structure and an improper diet all took its toll on his physical and emotional well-being, draining him during his first two years of his studies without a word to you. The men at the table were his pillars of support since then, meeting up at an old café and hitting it off in fourteen minutes max, peeling layer after layer of his troubles and sorting them out one by one and leading to a better, balanced life and probably the reason he was currently the highest achiever at the University; by the sounds of their stories together they broke him down and built him back up brick by brick, showering him in beatings and chicken soup, bruises and carbonara, until all his smiles went back to being genuine instead of hiding his accumulating bottled hurt he carried around on his shoulders, hunched under the pressures of his previous achievements and the expectations of his family and friends back home.

They had formed part of an external family that you were just learning about, three years in the making of the unbreakable bond that appeared to traverse dimensions; he held tightly onto your hand as the inside jokes and untold stories flowed among them, shared experiences you were unaware of and what seemed like a lifetime of not paying attention to the person you spent your life loving – you felt inanely selfish that even he'd think he would bother you with his problems; the fact that he thought he was a bother in the first place broke your heart into a thousand pieces. You looked at your laced hands and then up at him grinning and happy, unable to see him the way they had described. Maybe that was the point.

Your face was deadpan the entire way through, a plastered smile on your face that Nero took as not being a good sign; he crushed your hand and brought you out of your state of helplessness, and all you could think of how different they day had turned out to be. You were proud that he felt comfortable telling you absolutely anything, but what was this? The look you gave him was grave and his face plummeted to some unknown depth that even Dante understood. "Why don't the two of you get some fresh air? I'll call you when your cake gets here."

There was no time to answer; Nero stood and pulled you from your chair and headed to the big glass doors that lead to the patio; he opened it and let you step through, closing it and giving a quick nod to the twins who returned it. He was at your side immediately and you held his claw to your chest, a small habit you'd developed to tell him that everything was okay, stilling your heartbeat for him to feel that you weren't lying to him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He shifted from your side to stand directly in front of you, crashing his forehead to yours. "You had your own life to worry about. It was a long time ago-"

"A long time ago you were my life, Nero." You moved closer his to form soaking up the intense amount of heat he was exhuming. "I'm not sad, I'm not hurt, I'm not anything; it just sucks hearing it, that's all."

Nero had no clue it would affect you this much; the conversation alone was unplanned, and he thought you would laugh along to the ludicrousy. "Baby-"

"I'll be fine, I swear. Really," you reassured him, looking at your shoes as if they were the best things since sliced bread; a familiar tingle spread through your spine, knowing those passionate blue eyes were trying to measure the truth from your soul. "Don't give me that face; I'm good. Like Dante said, the air is good."

He claimed his hand and tilted you by your jaw to place a lingering kiss on your forehead. All was almost forgotten at the intimate moment, wishing it would last longer. "I won't apologise for not telling you."

"I won't expect you to."

"I didn't want you to know I was completely useless living alone. I didn't want you seeing me lose my mind, undernourished, barely taking care of myself, and not giving in to the clear signs that something was wrong. I was ashamed to be near you as you thrived and prospered, reaching those goals you set for yourself without a single complaint." Nero kissed you again with a slight quiver to his lips, invisible to the naked eye but you knew him too well. "All I can do is laugh at how ridiculous that time of my life was and that's what I'm doing. I'll never go back to that place."

You fell forward into his torso, his heartbeat as mesmerising as the first time you had heard it – his life and soul resounded in those deep echoes, revealing much more than a steady rhythm through which blood was resuscitated through his body. "How do you know that?"

"Because there's one difference now that wasn't there back then."

You couldn't resist. "An unlimited supply of cake?"

He forced you to look at him, that icy freezing you in place and making you weak in the knees. "You." He leaned in as if to kiss you, drifting over your lips as he spoke. "I didn't want you seeing me at my worst; I'm always at my best with you by my side, sweetheart."

You couldn't resist; he was so close yet so far, and all you wanted was to hold him, to feel him close, seal that promise with the kiss you've needed since you walked in. "I'm here, Nero. I don't plan to leave anytime soon." For the moment you had forgotten the two beings beyond the glass with one thing on your mind, the only thing that has taken most of its space for years. "Not that you'll let me, but-" He didn't let you finish: it had been too long a time since he had kissed you, tasting the obscure tinges of cake in your mouth as he explored every nook and cranny with long, deep strokes, breaking the kiss for only a moment to stare at your beauty in his own reality too good to be true. Nero kissed you again, lacing his fingers and resting them behind your head to deepen it as he pleased, digging into your psyche as far as his tongue would allow; you clutched at the material on his chest, quickly losing all feeling in your limbs at his intensity and using what was left of your reserves to hold onto him, oxygen becoming a second priority when he was this embedded in you, overcome by emotion at your presence and taking advantage of the isolated environment in showing what you truly meant to him in front of the two most influential beings in his life – you didn't care that you had an audience; you were so in love that you were ready to show the world, adoring the fact that he was in total control and moving at his own erratic pace and you went with the passionate flow, acknowledging the possibility of you regretting it later but not caring.

Who were you kidding? You were his and he knew it, for years now. The remaining ticks to your clock would be shared by his hand and his face, the numbers nothing more than abstract concepts to measure your eternity with each other in destroying the obstacles and milestones as one beating heart.

* * *

Dante played with what was left of his slice of red velvet, mindlessly cutting it into chunks with his fork and sticking them in his mouth with the incorrect ratio of cake to frosting; it frustrated Vergil to no end but heeded no mind to his unknowing antics he carried out under the lowest level of stress and anxiety his brother had ever put on display. "I swear I didn't know."

"You had no way of knowing." He ate his slice the correct way, precise and scrupulous in manner and slicing downward to get a fragment of every available flavour and enjoy it the way it was supposed to be eaten, not butchering the poor thing to make it more convenient to eat for the brother with more than enough vacant space. "She had every right to, so you did him a solid if you think about it. If you didn't open your big mouth she never would have known."

He looked up from his plate and fought with his peripheral vision as he poked himself countless times with a piece of crimson sponge. His deadpan face made it all the more hilarious to his brother who nearly choked on his double vanilla toffee affogato. "Thank you, brother – you really have a way with words." By no means did it or would it eat his conscience alive, but he had the capacity to feel guilty about having the topic hang over them and a blank face needing some form of explanation; Nero hadn't stopped his attempt at the subject matter so he presumed it was fine, but why that became spoken about in the first place he couldn't remember – the only thing that would stick in his head was that he had awoken it; the epicentre of disaster strikes his luck again.

"Dante, he's making things right as we speak; there's absolutely no reason for you to worry about them. The way he spoke of her was as if a meteor shower couldn't tear them apart; what's a one purposely forgotten memory compared to that?" Vergil had a point; he always did. "They'll be fine. You raised him better."

Some of the best conversations with his brother were the ones he couldn't point out as serious or teasing him in broad daylight. "I did, didn't I?" Dante looked outside at the pair with the picture-perfect backdrop as Nero began taking her breath away with his words; they held each other close with no signs of distress, wondering why he was so worried in the first place. How could he have thought what they had was in jeopardy? Neither twin knew her as well as Nero did, but from the way he ranted and raved about her it was clear that what they had transgressed human reckoning. "I'm amazing… We're amazing."

Vergil set his tiny cup down and followed his brother's gaze; they were alluring, standing in one spot, giving love the good name it didn't deserve. "I left you with all the emotional crap – all I did was feed him."

"And look at him now." Dante wiped at fake tears as Nero kissed her with all his might, mentally ticking the 'I hope he knows how to kiss' box and giving him one less thing to worry about to teaching him. As if. "Look at what we made, Vergil."

"Don't go making it sound cheesy." The plain thought left a bad taste in his mouth, taking a tiny drop of her granita as penance for the sour destruction of his taste buds at the mere concept. "We did not have sex and you did not birth him." Of course, he was allowed to have his quirks, was he not?

He crossed his legs stylishly under the table, sipping and chomping innocently at his treat with Dante clicking two milliseconds too late. "Whoa whoa whoa whoa… who made you in charge of choosing who'd birth him? You look good in any colour and could totally rock maternity clothes."

As true as it was… "I can't believe I'm having the conversation with you-"

"You move around more so the stretch marks would be nothing to get rid of. You're healthier and smarter and I'd probably annoy you with all the questions-"

"Again, this isn't happening-" Telling that to himself wasn't making it any better.

"More to my point, the moodiness suits you better; you were born a pregnant woman, huge penis aside."

Sometimes it was best to ignore him; now would have been one of those times should Vergil have had more cake, coffee, or alcohol to drown him out. "You have the paternal instin- what did you just say?"

Took him long enough; Dante licked pieces of red velvet from his fingers, taking his time in savouring the memories they shared like he would never come to the shop or order it again. "All I'm saying is-" the glass door opened in a flash of reflected light as Nero zipped through and crossed the rest of the room quickly, fluffing his hair as he disappeared behind the second door leading to the foyer. The twins looked at one another in utter confusion, not picking up any spike to his vitals or body heat when you stepped through the threshold and both of them stood out of their chairs. "Everything okay?"

"Everything is good." The smile on your face exhibited the exact opposite to Nero's reaction; their finished plates concerned you for a minute as you went to your seat. "Are we leaving? Please don't say we're leaving."

Dante's eyes followed you as you and Vergil took your seats, using much effort to appear relaxed. "What makes you think that?"

"You were standing up… and you stood at the same time so I thought you were just waiting for us to come back."

"The primal position for any anticipated action is to stand up; it's a natural reflex for both of us." Vergil crossed his arms over his chest and sunk into his popped collar, a hazy anxiety glossing the galaxies that were transfixed on you – that cold exterior was designed to deceive and you foolishly went along with his claim, beginning to see the greater heart that Nero did. His kindness did no harm to the badass façade and only deepened your respect for him; papa bear was in your sights, the clear-cut alpha of the three and the strongest physically, mentally, emotionally. "We didn't mean to startle you."

"Let me translate," said Dante, moving swiftly to your side and bending to whisper into your ear. "What he means is his natural instinct is to protect and take care of anyone affiliated with someone he's close to." He stood to his towering height and got the stink-eye from Vergil; it was probably the sexiest stink-eye you would ever encounter, layered in acid just in case the blazing stare didn't work. "But don't worry about it. That's just his thing."

You nodded. How sweet. "Nero went to the bathroom; he didn't realise that drinking a lot of liquids lead to this kind of situation."

Dante finally sat in his chair. "The two of you are good then?"

"More than good." You pinched at an itch at the skin between the back of your thumb and wrist, flecking your fingers to the sensitive spot as well. "Were you worried?"

"Nope."

"Not at all."

They spoke in synchronisation, which gave reason for you to believe it was the complete opposite end of the stick.

"That reminds me," you defeated the point to sitting down in the first place, getting up and sitting in Nero's chair to lean over and drape your arms over his shoulders; the improvised hug took them by surprise, and owing to you not stepping over any limit there may be, you considered your actions safe by any explanation. "Thank you for all you did for him. There's not much else I can say."

Dante sat immobile for a few seconds before turning to his brother, eyes wide in sarcastic fear. "Verge, she's touching me, what do I do?"

You laughed at his hands that dug at the arms, pretending to be uncomfortable at your touch; Vergil just covered his eyes and shook his head with a melodious chuckle directed at the table. "Human contact isn't my forte, unfortunately. Copy what she does and I'm sure it'll make sense at some point."

He got the gist of his twin's words, leaning forward and wrapping both his arms around your waist as per instruction. Your head slanted into the warm crook of his neck as you both nuzzled closer, soaking in the unspoken words of deep gratitude flowing through your body's energy; Dante moved your arms from around his neck to his hips upon seeing the weird stretch you were making and hugged you closer by your shoulders, one hand rubbing your back and the other embedded in your hair. "We should be thanking you; you're the true reason he got out of that mess."

He was the softest teddy bear you never had the chance to own. "You were there when he needed you."

"And we'd do it again if he ever needed us to. Right, Vergil?" You peeled yourself away from the man knowing that if you didn't you'd stay like that for the rest of the day; you were strong enough to not get emotional in the embrace, walking back to your seat and stealing a glance at the door. You guessed Vergil wasn't much of the hugger type – any type, rather – so you bowed to him in your seat, offering what you could to replace the hug you'd given Dante.

"Of course." He acknowledged it by mirroring your actions, watching as your hands enfolded the lukewarm drink next to your uneaten slices of cake; you sat in silence until you felt your hands being pulled from the ceramic and into Vergil's clutches – he held them firmly in his palms, scrutinising them in their entirety with a perplexed look on his creamy face. "Why are you shaking?"

The twin squished his face to one side as he lined them up palm to palm, the whole inner surface of each in line with the other. "I have no idea-"

The sting came quickly from both sides as he hit them hard, pressing them into each other to rid your skin of the pain he inflicted. "There. That should help."

It did, made even stranger when Nero returned from his break to see you staring at your hands in awe. "What did I miss?"

"Your girl gave me a hug. Vergil got a metaphorical one." He reclaimed his seat and began chatting to the twins as you drifted through your own thoughts, floating into your wildest imagination and finding no justification to what this day ended up being; you had cake and coffee just as Nero has promised; you made two new, amazing friends who shared the best possible common trait. You managed within yourself to hold it together, not being an expressive person by any standards, but the absolute trust, devotion, and honour drifting in the cutest triangle before your very eyes made you realise how remarkable he was, opening your eyes one degree further to how much he truly meant to you – his heart, his soul, his everything, synonymous with perfection in its purest form, now more than ever.

"Babe, you okay? You're zoning out on us." His soft hands on your cheeks woke you from your daydream, those signature deep oceans ogling your every feature; you smiled broadly in answer, unable to contain the puffy redness to your cheeks. "You sure? You look like you're in another world." He placed the back of his hand to your forehead to feel for a fever.

Lars popped behind him from nowhere, emulating your grin in full comprehension. "That's the face of pure happiness, Nero. Get with the times." He addressed you directly, pointing to the area on the table in front of you. "Watch out for the shots – Vergil will hate it if everyone doesn't drink the same amount." Shots? You turned to look on the table and saw four tiny drinks at every side; three layers sat neatly on top of one another, ranging from an opaque to a deep beige with a blast of cream on the top and drops of chocolate liqueur. "You can figure that one out for yourself."

* * *

Dante had sped to the cake shelves asking for his order of cake to be taken home at his brother's permission; the grown man skipped through the door at the chance not giving Vergil the opportunity to change his mind, greeted by every staff member he'd passed on route to his third favourite place in the entire universe. Watching him added an extra beat inside your chest feeling his excitement at the prospect of more cake, which you could relate to on more than one level.

You shuffled articles in your bag to locate your wallet. "How much do I owe?"

"Owe? What do you mean?" You'd forgotten that Vergil was equally as tall as Dante, tilting your head to look him in the eye as his hands sunk slickly into the front pockets of his slacks. "You're expecting me to let you pay?"

Lars interjected, strategically positioning himself next to him. "He owns the place; he can do what he pleases."

He nodded promptly. "Like this." They all knew what was coming except for your poor soul: your jaw dropped as Lars lifted his head under the command of Vergil's finger, the twin's hand in the dip of his back as they turned to face one another in the fiercest kiss you'd ever behold, completely unexpected from the taller man; Lars moaned into his mouth as he lost the grip to his blue coat and opted to hook his fingers on the waistband of his pants as his mouth was utterly taken over by Vergil. His hands parted the black strands at the base of his neck, gripping his hair in an attempt to overwhelm his senses; Lars gave up his portion of the control, tracing his jaw with his fingertips and sighing into the magic that crumpled his brain to nothing. Vergil was in a forgiving mood, drawing his tongue back into his mouth before the employee completely lost the plot, scraping his teeth along his swollen tongue and sucking at his bottom lip. "I always get my way."

The air in your lungs was burning you from the inside out. "I! FUCKING! KNEW IT! I didn't wanna say anything in case I was wrong, but damn I'm good."

Lars was forty nine shades of pink while against Vergil's chest, the silver-haired god watching him from lidded eyes up above. "I'm truly sorry you had to see that-"

"What? NO! Don't you dare apologise." You gawked between them; it was far too adorable to ignore. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Second hottest, you remembered; upon hearing the accomplishment the person at the top of that list encircled his strong arms at your waist and pulled you into him; Nero bit at the shell of your ear for your head to fall the opposite side, providing a wider area to sink his teeth into. He ran his tongue over the bites on your skin, holding you tighter and discreetly presenting his stimulation to you, ready for you and heavy with the activities of the day while anxious to get home to unleash another dimension of pleasure he shrouded in his sleeves. "Let's give them a few seconds alone, baby." Your lungs breathed deep at your lucky break; he'd be yours on the floor if he had gone one step further. Nero moved rapidly to hold your hand and drag you to the front of the store, halting at the door that separated their section from the front of the shop. "We'll wait for you outside, Vergil. And be nice; he still has customers in the foyer."

His hands were in Lars' hair, tugging downward harshly as a very satisfied whimper left his lips. "He doesn't like it when I'm nice." Vergil's stare penetrated you in your very core, deep down where you kept the fantasies you'd never allow fresh air to touch; Nero's back was to the pair so he couldn't share your burden, the gleam of something sinister flashing in his eyes before roughly plunging his thick tongue into his victim.

It was five in the afternoon and the sun was already gone, the streetlamps giving light to the dingy sidewalks you would have walked had Dante not insisted to take you home. Under his persistence, Lars brought Vergil's car to the front of the building: making a long story short, some profanities were spewed as the Ferrari FF turned the corner with his familiar face in the driver's seat, parking in front of the four of you; he turned the engine off and tossed the keys to Dante, the twins sleekly moving to opposite sides of the car. "Climb in, you two; we don't have all day." He clamped his tongue between his teeth as he folded his chair forward.

The man in uniform came to Vergil's passenger window, leaning through to talk to the twins; you didn't bother listening with Nero's arm around you in the backseat, catching his eye and giving him a quick peck to relieve the tugging stress of his teeth. "Good luck on your job today."

He gave Lars an inviting smirk, his tongue greeting the upturned corner of his mouth. "Routine clean-up, nothing major. I won't be long."

The other man easily bent down and kissed him quickly, walking to the opposite side to greet Dante whom you realised hadn't been in the car all this time. You were sitting behind Vergil and their interaction wasn't in your line of sight; you secretly envisioned the two of them as he was with the other twin much to your own shame of being turned on the way you were when Nero nudged you by the shoulder, signalling to his window. "Wanna peek?"

The undertone to his question was enticing, warning and urging you: you crawled over his body and looked out of the window at the couple standing too close to each other, Dante's hands wrapped around the expanse of his toned back and laughing at whatever he was doing to his collarbone. You turned to Nero disbelievingly, a gaping mouth and raised eyebrows completing your convincing look and leaving you speechless that you didn't expect it yourself.

 _KEEP WATCHING._

He mimed to you as his hand found your concaved spine, running it over the curve of your butt and settling between your legs while you watched them attentively. You could barely make out what they were saying but being the smart student he was, Nero lunged over and made quick work with a small gap in the window for you to hear; only then did you feel him clawing through the material of your jeans, rubbing his clawed digit harshly along your engorged entrance and virtually digging into your sensitive skin – the more you reacted, the more he moved, and if you had any chance to gage the happenings outside you had to disregard the wakeup call and concentrate on the two animals within grappling distance of you.

"Will I see you later?"

"Can you handle me alone?"

"Is that a challenge?" In one flowing motion the pale hand on Dante's chest fell to the front of his pants, gripping at his fly and zipping him open to dip his hand inside the heavy fabric and feeling around; both their mouths shot open as Lars found what he was looking for – you imagined it couldn't have taken him long – as the joint of his wrist moved back and forth through the space.

Dante fell forward and spoke into his lips, holding his forearm in a vice grip for their own safety. "One hour."

The scene only made your situation worse, picturing Nero leaning half-heartedly on his fist while his other hand occupied the space between your legs, his facial expression hinting at none of what he was doing to you; you commended him on lasting this long, his intelligence in weaning both responses to stimuli almost unmatched by his need to spectate both of your insurmountable want for one another's bodies and making his message loud and clear to you. Your eyes trailed the length of your body to the anomaly sticking out amidst your thighs, glowing in agreement to your tight heat; your body inherently moved on its own accord, sharing his stare as your legs parted somewhat and receiving a sneer as reward. You were not ready to play his damn game, especially since the claw had now left you and sat comfortably at the swell of his skinnies you hadn't seen until now – you took a deep breath and shook your head, turning to the impious act on the sidewalk to distract your thoughts going down an alleyway it wasn't meant to go.

Lars smiled, retracting the invasion and zipping him up professionally. "One hour." Green maintained blue's gaze as he licked the pads of his thumb, sticking his tongue out for Dante to inspect the drop of white substance and follow it down his throat. You slowly moved back to your spot as he walked to the car, climbed into his seat and turned the ignition.

Number five. _BOTH?_

He shook his head. _THEY WON'T LET HIM CHOOSE. ITS BOTH OR NOTHING._

You were impressed. _KINKY!_

* * *

The car parked in Nero's allocated spot next to yours, never used owing to you killing his dreams of keeping one. Dante jumped out and unhooked his seat to let the two of you through, trawling on the lawn in front of his apartment in full view of his front door. "He always does that." They were far more protective than you could have imagined, glancing at Vergil and watching his eyes shoot around the neighbourhood at lightning speed.

You scooted across the backseat and grabbed his outstretched hand in aid when another lightly brushed yours holding onto the cushion of the driver's seat; your head snapped in the opposite direction, visibly relaxing at Vergil's touch as he gently grazed the skin on the back of your hand with his thumb and finally giving you a smile so sweet you could hear your heart crack. Nero held onto you but gave you the level of privacy he could, sticking his head over the roof of the car and making obscene gestures to Dante. "Take care of him, will you?"

You had managed to get through the entire day without getting emotional but no, stoic papa bear had to hit you out of nowhere in your feels, acknowledging the weightiness of the request yet also ensuring he was leaving Nero in the right hands; he really did mean a lot to them – you knew that now – and you wouldn't dare let anyone down when it came to being the best version of yourself for him and him alone. "I will, Vergil. I promise you that."

"Good." He ran the tips of his fingers on your open palm leaving hot tingles on the cold flesh and making you giddy; how was he doing this with such a small fucking touch? "Now get out of my car; he's been waiting to rip your clothes off since we got to the shop."

You clutched Nero's hand tightly for him to help you out of the car. "Thank you for today."

There was a sombre look to his iced gaze, austere melancholy glazing his features as he turned to watch his brother on the grass next to him. "Don't mention it."

You heaved your frame from the car and Dante's head snapped up, meeting you halfway on your route to give him a proper goodbye wearing a happier aura than his brother; he didn't have much to say other than giving you the more decent and civilised version of the one you attempted back at the store, not knowing any other way to do it other than you pick you up and have your legs flail far from the floor as you snuggled to his size comfortably. "She's too short to do this normally."

Never had you seen a wider smile on Nero, standing clear of any limb that may accidently hit him. "You can't help that you're huge."

You both stopped dead in your tracks and looked at him, only then realising what he'd just said. "Say it like you mean it, Nero."

He scratched the back of his head. "God, put her down already; you can't raise the bar on your first day, Dante." He eventually gave in, setting you down gently and giving you a firm handshake. You laughed at the weirdness of it all, bestowing the best curtsey to him in gratitude; he smiled with his entire body and it was refreshing, putting your mind at ease knowing that some of his contagious humour was deep inside Nero's frame ready to burst free at random.

You walked toward your door without thinking. "Where are you going?"

Nero called from behind you, the answer obvious enough. "Home. To freshen up."

"You can do everything at my place." He reached your side and dragged you the other way.

"But-"

"Must I translate?" He cleared his throat as if he had prepared this very speech for this very moment. "I can start with the birds and the bees talk if you so wish."

This would be interesting – the perspective of sex from a living sex god. Why would anyone say no to that? "Dante, with all due respect-" of course Nero would, reputation and all, "-she knows what's going to happen to her behind that door." He asserted dominance by standing behind you and getting your heart racing with a meagre touch around your shoulder blade and navigating upward to the back of your neck; his ultimate weakness on your body because it gave you away in an instant. "Your elaborate speech might give away the moves I haven't used yet."

You took a step back hoping the bend in his arm wouldn't handle the angle and leaned into him until his face was next to yours. For your own personal satisfaction you kept your eyes on the man a few feet away, his myriad of facial expressions sending you deeper and deeper into the void you needed to be in for the rest of the night. "You have more?"

"Baby, you don't know the half of it." A delicate squeeze to your neck was all Dante could endure after his prior activities, lifting his hands up in surrender and walking to the driver's side of the car audibly grinning at the show you put on for him. "Let's go inside," he said and you led the way, peeling the damned hand from behind you and laced your fingers between his, taking the first steps up his porch; you had learned a lot today, possibly too much, that all you genuinely wanted was a decent night's sleep to process the two beings you had just met. True, there would never be enough time in one afternoon to cover every angle, but did you really need to? It was evident that the love they harboured for him was almost on par with yours, and that was sufficient – that was all there was to it, knowing that he had two world class role models in his life to mould into. It was a blessing in disguise, a chance happening suiting and lasting them for the rest of their days. "See you soon, Vergil."

You were about to step inside when the twin shouted out. "Take care of her, okay? She's all we have."

Nero stood on the threshold and replied. "If I don't, will you beat me up?"

"I'd kill you if I needed to."

Their relationship would bother you until you ceased to exist; Nero turned and observed your body from a distance. "He isn't serious, is he?"

He gave you a shrug. Of course he was.


	5. The cherry on top

"We can talk about that some other time. There isn't space in my mind for anything else. Right now, we need to get you upstairs." Nero, however, was in no rush; he made sure the door was double bolted before steering you into his arms and softly pushing your back against it, your arms hooking around his neck as he ground his hips into yours with the most sinful moans escaping his lips. His hands descended to the dip in your back, rounding your ass and gripping it tightly causing your pelvis to buckle under the immense pressure; Nero held you in place as he drew you in, grinding his clothed erection over your melting flesh with a hoarse, unsteady breath into your mouth, biting down hard onto your lip as he did it a second time. His unhurried pace caught you off guard, relishing in the feeling of his body weight pressed up against you, trapping you between a rock and his hard place and finding comfort in the fact that there was absolutely nowhere for you to go. He crunched his teeth at the third, head bent low over you while he watched your sexes hard at work with high hopes of sending the other over the edge before the night had begun, sinking his lips into your neck and breathing in your scent as his clutch tightened and the fibres at his claw nearly tearing it to shreds. "I needed to get that out of my system."

His hands left your butt but did nothing with the delicious pressure your body endured as he stretched his arms and flattened his palms on the surface of the door; his head fell to your chest in awe at the franticness of your lungs aiding to bring calmness back to a safe level within you, smiling onto your shirt in amazement that today's effect had on you – more importantly, how you wanted him as badly as he did you and not comprehending it until now, forced to acknowledge the tingle you fought hard to supress throughout the day at Nero's brutal display, succumb to it long before the day had ended. Your hand raked through his moist roots, pulling him off your chest and licking at his enviable lips, planting soft lingering pecks unsure of the direction he was going but your inner craving getting the better of you before stepping over the brink you currently stood, wanting to be remembered for putting up as much of a fight you could.

Your hands on his jaw brought him to his full height and he followed suit, keeping his tongue at bay and crushing you once again, dominating your senses at the featherlight brushed of his hair on your face and the heavy attention he was giving the front of your jeans, the miniscule clinking of his rings hitting the two buttons that hid your saturating, pulsating sanity. His actions below were replicated at your ear, his claw digging into the wood and dragging downward in tune with your fly and flipping you over to face the door; the blue talons retracted from the helpless oak leaving unrepairable cracks in its wake to take homage on your neck, pressing on your carotid artery as his grasp snaked into the room he had created for himself. You pushed your hands to the door not knowing what else to do with them, trying to think of the best way to touch him but failing at the slowing supply of oxygen to your brain; you arched into his growing bulge at the full-fingered plunge he took inside of you, a single digit rendering you speechless at the ever-growing pace and depth along your walls. He was teasing you, halting an inch away from your g-spot with each flex of his finger as you moistened at his touch.

"I'm really sorry for this."

If he wasn't next to your ear, you wouldn't have heard him. "Sorry for w-"

The hand on your neck moved to your chest in a bone-shattering vice, compressing your lungs dangerously as the other three joined inside you, stretching your entrance to full capacity while his thumb caressed your outer skin and clit, your arms falling to your sides under a scorching ache that would only end with you coming all over your brand-new jeans. You were a puppet in his clutches, flipping your positions again and requiring much more room to continue his relentless plan. "Put your legs up there, sweety." Nero used an inkling of strength to hoist you onto his kitchen counter with your feet firm on the slanting edge, surprised at the comfort; he flicked your clit and your parted your legs – the sole purpose of the endeavour in the first place – while he moaned and whimpered into your skin, the audible prize of his genius penetrating through two layers of clothing.

Your legs were jelly at this point, only finding the strength to keep them on the table and wide open as the rest of you went along with his plan, exhausted and helpless to say the least, affording nothing more than breathless laments to signify both your pain and pleasure at the new encounter. "I'm gonna go deeper; is that fine?"

What was the point in answering? What was the point in asking? He had you at a disadvantage and he was the one calling the shots. "No… No, it's not fine, but you're going to fucking do it anyway so why ask?"

He tenderly kissed your cheek, beads of your sweat coating his precarious lips. "Courtesy, baby, and the illusion that you're doing this to yourself." Nero stabilised himself while holding you, expelling a deep, gruff whine at four fifths of his hand sliding inside your vagina, your legs widening to support him and your hips collapsing at the incursion that was soon to bring about the best orgasm of your life; he didn't hold back this time round, each finger getting the opportunity to massage your g-spot over and over as he moved up and forward in his crusades, cruelly circling your walls faster and faster as he drew more liquid out of you. You were closing in on your peak, your head flung over his shoulder in lidded ecstasy and your chest struggling for breath with his fingers reaching an untouched place within; it was getting way too much for you to handle, only ever venturing spaces that were safe and with a way out, but this was an entirely new challenge owing to your body giving in yet crying out simultaneously to make you come as violently as possible. "You have to let me go-"

"Why?" His quick reply already meant that there was no chance.

"Becau-" You drew a deep breath through your teeth, tears welling at the corner of your eyes with your ribcage burning with a scream that would alleviate the pain almost instantly; you ventured a peep at his hand moving so fast between your legs you couldn't keep up, your lace panties and the front of your jeans covered in what you assumed were two orgasms you weren't aware of, and you weren't even going to bother what parts of his limb wasn't covered in your sex juices. ' _Fuck it,_ ' you thought, utilising your last bit of energy to keep your body perfectly still and enjoy the last few seconds of his ruthless attempt at fucking you senseless.

It was easy and hard at the same time, keeping still and giving him the satisfaction at feeling you crumble before his very eyes; at the same time the effort was torture, offering that one step closer to your demise resulting in the overall loss of feeling below your belt, the added extra of your growls becoming more feral and fitful and bouncing fluently around his kitchen. The profanity spewing from your mouth was completely uncalled for: there were only so many times you could say 'FUCK' before it lost its efficacy but not for the man behind you, every curse spurring him further and losing himself inside you, whispering dirty nothings into your neck in that husky, thick, raspy whisper you love so much, sending the good shivers down your spine and straight to your groin as the final drop of blood pumped into your folds. "You ready to come for me, honey?"

You nodded profusely, relieved out of your wits. "I can't scream anym-"

Nero took your earlobe between his lips, sucking it pink. "How much you wanna bet?"

"I don't want t-" You heard his smirk before the action, pressurising your spot with all of his might as he lifted you off the counter and made sure you could stand before bending you over the marbled surface, essentially compacting your body to a more concentrated state as he folded over behind you equipped with longer, deeper strokes and changing his pattern on a whim. He could feel you were close, tangling his fingers into your hair and scratching your scalp as he hauled your frame towards him, snarling while biting callously into your neck during an ensued piercing shriek from your mouth; he held the strands and bent your head backward in line with his, basking in the full blast of your pleasure and grinning from ear to ear as more orgasms left your body and dripped rightfully into his hand.

It seemed like it was over; it really did – he retracted as a tease, passing over your entrance and heartily spreading your liquids over your swollen sex; the predator turned your head to him and kissed you deeply, passionately, lovingly after what he had just put you through, but it was never this simple with him, was it? Your hopes of it being just a sweet kiss flipped on its head as the strokes above matched the ones below: same rhythm, speed, intensity and degree to which he was purely fucking your sanity over. At this point you were raw, mentally and physically incapable of keeping up with his incredible stamina. "Please stop."

Those words had never left you. Ever! "Ten seconds."

You shook your head and grazed your teeth on his sharp jaw to plead your case. "Nero, no more-"

"Ten… Seconds…" His arm glowed at the prospect of him getting his way again, sneering as he tongued your mouth and emulated it with his hand, refusing to limit his ministrations for your sake – as much as you tried a mental countdown didn't work, your wails heavy and lustful inside his mouth. Nero caught your tongue between his teeth and grazed it softly, inspiring the organ in response to his fingertips tugging and rubbing your clit to which you immediately stepped out of his attack radius, removing him from inside you and falling on all fours to the floor, dry-heaving to still your stinging heart. It was so nice and cold, soothing the heat in your joints instantaneously as more of you came in contact with the tiles, relaxing on your back and viewing the ceiling for all it was worth.

He walked the few steps to your side, feet on either side of your hips as he tilted his head in glory. "You're so in love with me, it's not even funny anymore."

Damn him for that smile. "The floor is really good."

"Really?" The floor wasn't usually his forte, but where was the harm in trying? To your astonishment he was being cute, getting to his knees and nuzzling between your legs to plonk himself on your chest, his face flanked by your breasts. "Yeah, okay, I see your point."

You lied there for some time, taking the chance to rub his back in apology as he tried to not to touch you upon your request; it remained a dream to you, sharing the same air he breathed, lying undisturbed on his floor as he listened to your heartbeat; you could pinch yourself all day and nothing would change – he was as real as daylight, his feelings for you made clearer than his existence with you so far down the holy-crap-he-loves-me-back stick that you could no longer see any traces of doubt or misunderstanding. It was encouragingly surreal and pure luck you met the man of your dreams early on, and only now mature enough to realise the warning signs from the very beginning.

He spoke directly into your chest, supposedly a few monologues to himself that translated as mumbles to earth dwellers as his hot breath prickled your skin, giggling at the notion that he was literally talking to himself. "Please forgive me," he says, raising his head and kissing the spot with the loudest echo on the left side of your torso, snaking up your body and keeping his hands far away as he found your lips within your stated boundaries, leaning onto his elbows that were on either side of your head. This was okay; this was more than okay. To keep your own mind at ease your arms remained at your side clasping at the material of your shirt, feeling yourself being condemned by every living deity – holy or otherwise – on the planet.

Nero broke the kiss and left you to your madness. "I'll be back to pick you up; I have a few things to sort out upstairs."

Upstairs – his bedroom – the catalyst to your second death in one day.

You were rolled on your right side, the floor feeling much warmer softer than it was supposed to; you slowly opened your eyes at the feel of the bedding on your fingers and the feather pillow supporting your head, a tall milky figure adjusting gym clothing coming into view. You sat up and rubbed the fatigue from your eyes, Nero still a hazed blur moving across his huge room to stand at your side and kiss your forehead shyly, his weight dipping the bed as he sat and held your tired hand in his. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

He played with your palm, tracing the lines on every one of your fingers and the open skin with his claw. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere; I changed the spare room into a small gym so I wanted to do some training while you slept." The oversized black shirt, black sweats, and trainers should have given that much away, but you were curious as to why his left arm was bound from his fingertips to his elbow in a double layer of industrial strength bandage and black duct tape. He followed your gaze to the abnormality and flexed the suffocating muscles underneath, showing you it wasn't meant to restrict movement. "There's a boxing bag in there and I can't wear the gloves." The sheer power of his bringer would incinerate the poor thing to dust and to regulate to the strength level of a gloved and non-gloved hand was relatively difficult while he trained. Dante came up with the solution on the spot and he'd used it ever since, not weighing his punches as much as he'd liked but preferred that he could keep the skin on his knuckles.

You shimmied on the bed as your clothes clung to the sweat on your frame; Nero's room was always pleasantly warm, but your layers of clothing were tailored to the evening air and not for your own uncontrollable body heat in conjunction with the cosy temperature he kept. "Aren't you uncomfortable?"

You nodded, the belt of your jeans digging into your belly – how nice, he'd made you decent. "I think that's why I woke up."

Your eyes were barely open as you spoke, your face heavily puffy at the fact that you had awoken from what seemed like a quick nap after going for almost two days without a quick wink; the slope in the bed disappeared and you followed the blob to his wardrobe, scratching through one shelf and pulling a grey shape from it, setting it on the bed next to you and getting you to throw your legs over the edge of the bed. "Come on," he said, chuckling at the irony of the situation and you being the dead weight you were. "I promised I wouldn't touch you and I won't, but I won't stand for you not getting a restful night's sleep." Your head lobbed to the side as he peeled your items of clothing one by one; getting you to keep your arms up in your state was as funny as it was difficult, opting to rather do it limb by limb which ended up being simpler. Your jeans were the easiest, practically sliding off your legs like they weren't mean to be there in the first place. You sat in your underwear already content and more than ready to collapse back into your spot when he cautiously took his shirt and put it over your head, pulling its full length over your torso and then only unhooking your bra, removing the sleek lace and dropping it to the floor on the top of your heap of clothing; he tugged your arms through the holes in his shirt and inspected his handiwork as he opened the covers for you to slide in, folding the duvet to just cover the naked, bottom half of your body. Your head hit the pillow with a sweet smile as he boldly placed a firm kiss on your lips, catching him leave the warm cocoon and leave you in peace to catch some much needed shut eye. Knowing Nero, there would only be one reason for this; the inability to sleep later on, which you would welcome with an open heart… arms and legs… and mouth.

You faded in and out of sleep, the tiniest noises stemming from anywhere opening your eyes involuntarily, only to have you drift off seconds later and returning to your deep slumber. At long last you heard his bedroom door open, Nero entering and covered in sweat from head to toe, glistening under the small lamps he had on either side of his room. He had turned off the main lights when he left with the two smaller lights giving off enough brightness to illuminate the important parts of the room. He used the towel swathed over his shoulders to frisk his damp hair; how hard had he worked his body in such a short time? "Are you finally awake? Or is this one of your glitches?"

He had a name for them; how adorable. "I think I'm awake," you replied, sitting up as Nero was no longer a blur; he took of his wet shirt from the bottom up giving you a clear view of the hard work he put into his late-night workouts. "I'm still going to… lie down though-" Nero began wiping his chiselled chest with the towel, dabbing at every groove and trough his muscles made under his irresistibly tight skin, more pronounced following whatever he had put his body through. Your mouth went dry as his train of thought went back to drying his hair, catching the beads of perspiration before it landed on the carpet and accidentally looking your way, seeing the sheets draped over your clearly wide open legs as you lied back against the headboard.

He stopped, thinking you were in pain. "Is something wrong?"

You shook your head and pulled the covers to the side. "Something's very right…"

Bringing yourself to reality, you wiped the effects of your miniscule nap from your eyes and sat on your knees, clicking your back and arms into place while staring Nero down across the room; as you stretched his shirt rode up your belly, giving him a full view of your tiny bottoms and allowing him to ogle before stalking toward him on the bed. "No no no no no no, I'm stinky, don't come near me." On the other end of the unbelievably cute stick sat an unkind face, one that had endured torture to the finest degree in simply doing what you'd asked and obeying because of the crumpling mess he left you in hours before. "You make me swear not to touch you and I hold up my end, and here you are wearing practically nothing trying to make the moves on me. I'm not strong enough to have self-control for the both of us, baby."

You clambered on all fours with a significant arc to your back, the big V-neck leaving little to the imagination as his line of sight followed down your chest. "That was before – this is now." Where on earth had this sudden burst of energy come from? It felt like not too long ago you were desperate to get some shut-eye, exhausted from the activities of two days in a row yet here you are, planting the seed for another night of no sleep and vicious sex; Nero needed no invitation but he knew you better than you did, assuming this was the weirdest form of foreplay that would dissolve in a minute when you fell into a deeper slumber in the blink of an eye. When you had reached the furthermost edge, a hungry tiger taking its position to pounce for its kill, his brain ticked into overdrive – this wasn't a drill. "I want you now."

He faced you head on and trod into your attack zone; _yes, I can reach him_ you thought, lunging forward and laying your tongue above his sweats, licking a line of the saltiness that led to his belly button. You grazed your teeth and nibbled at the taut skin, feeling his muscles contract and nearly making him regret his oath to you; his hands were about to move to the back of your head when he stopped himself in the nick of time, clasping tightly onto his towel as you followed through and cleaned the skin on his pelvis, firmly kissing across the expanse of his hips and hearing the poor towel tearing bit by bit. "But I'm dirty."

"Even better," you pleaded, biting at the waistband of his sweatpants and drawing him to the edge of the bed, maintaining eye contact throughout in the hopes he'd give in. "But if you insist I'll wait for you." It was all part of your evil plan, getting him to notice your need to have him inside you, ravaging your insides with his rock hard penis and unforgiving, impulsive tempo that made you breathless and weak, fucking your vocabulary from your brain until only one name stayed put. You went back to your spot on the bed and didn't bother climbing under the covers, fluffing and stacking the pillows behind you and relaxed into them, dividing your legs in his view and sticking your hand in your lace panties hovering over your drenched, boiling folds. "You don't mind, do you?"

Your underwear had enough give for your hand to work its magic completely covered, playing with your clit and pushing your back into the softness you'd constructed. "Don't you fucking dare-" He was too late, the first few moans escaping your lungs in quick succession. Your other hand clutched at your chest, kneading your breasts for tandem stimulation and a better moan for him; two fingers dipped through, your vagina clenching around them unexpectedly tight in a breathy outburst void of flavour and colour – what a true mess you were, doing the exact opposite of your earlier confession and winning the argument hands down.

"You better hurry, Nero. I can already feel two lining up at your favourite spot."

He squared his jaw, walking over you your side of the bed and did the unanticipated, carefully hooking his finger at the delicate lace and pulling them to one side for examination; his eyes widened at the liquid wasted on the expensive material and fighting with himself to stay where he was and leave you to it. Things weren't that easy with him, were they? Nero enveloped himself in your gaze, sneaking his hand to your wrist without so much as a glance at anything else but you. Bending your hand, he dragged the two digits for fresh air only to have them plunge deeper inside you at the way he had fixed your wrist. "There it is," he said, his eyes engrossed in your face as he directed you to your spot over and over again, willing an agonised cry from you before racing to the bathroom for the shower he thought he needed.

The soothing sounds of the water made you drift off, hand still deep between your legs, smiling at having good material to dream about for the next fifteen minutes.

* * *

Dante was hyperventilating on the bed, the soft head of black hair bobbing between his legs nearing the close of his performance; Lars had the unhealthy habit of taking them all at once and not carrying his blowjobs out in stages, stimulating each part of their erections for a steady build-up of an orgasm but rather feeling the tip of their penises deep in his throat with pronounced movements in rousing the organs as a hole and not in part, readying a fuller, richer, more penetrating orgasm than by swallowing them inch by inch. If that were the case he'd have a lot more to cover for both the twins, well-endowed in their statures and bodily ranks than the normal human. The hybrid spread his legs and thrust into his face, his back arching as the creamy liquid was forced out of him ferociously, squirting into his mouth as he dragged his teeth along Dante's pulsing, rigid, veiny length to steal the rest that needed that extra push out of his penis.

Triumphant in his endeavour, Lars sat on his knees proudly, swallowing his sperm to join the other twelve orgasms in the pit of his belly; the man on his back breathed deeply, the exhales taking a vocal, whimpering turn than the intakes, calming his racing heart at how good he was being taken care of at the hands of the green-eyed beast. "Anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are after you come?"

Dante was feeling the onset of a fresh one clenching his hips as he sat up straight to meet Lars' lips. "That's something that would never leave Vergil's mouth." They kissed; famished, longing, deep, like two lovers filling in a one month quota in just a few hours – Lars fell onto the bed next to him and bent his leg over Dante's hip as the bigger demon allowed his hand to traverse the soft, bumpy planes of his chest; he was extremely sensitive to touch, the tiniest of moves making him twitch all over, and when the hybrid's hand wrapped around his cock it was the best form of heaven money could buy. Big and strong over his growing erection, Lars moaned into his mouth as his thumb pumped his tip, roughly thrusting his eager pelvis into his palm as it squeezed life into him starting at his base, gripping Dante's wrist to keep in place for as long as it would take to reach his orgasm.

He had hardened to full capacity, moving from his side to his back and ceasing grip on his partner's hand to which Dante pumped wildly, siphoning growls left right and centre for the arrival of his precum, massaging the flesh directly underneath his head to focus solely on getting more blood into the organ when the bedroom door opened and Vergil waltzed through, locking it behind him and taking off his coat. The younger froze in position, his clutch tightening at the new arrival and eliciting the most feral sound he had ever heard stem from the man, causing Vergil to stop dead in his tracks and turn to the pair on the bed; a single eyebrow shot up at Dante, trailing the lines of their naked bodies in connection as he ridded himself of his uniform. "I see I've missed plenty."

He walked to Dante's side of the bed and gave him a lover's kiss, his tongue darting into his brother's mouth at lightning speed and letting it linger between them, pushing him into the headboard at the pure potency of his intense arousal that had been brewing since they left his shop; Vergil mounted his brother's lap and pressed their hips together, the coarse material making the treacherous journey up Dante's impressive erection and having a broken moan make its way into the atmosphere. Lars climbed behind him and stripped the clothed demon of the frustrating fibres that covered his equally indecent, heating body, raking and digging into the younger's scalp at the sheer depth of their kiss; it must have been a boring night for him, the job only taken upon Dante being unavailable to answer the phone because of a longer than usual shower he took this morning. "Did you have a good night, brother?"

Vergil splayed his hands on his chest as he breathed heavy, staring into his brother's eyes and making it more difficult for him to concentrate; he nodded slowly, Dante's hands working on his stout leather belt. "Lars was incredible." He had to be – any person who could make him come thirteen times in a two-hour time span was superhuman by their standards. "Up," he said, not ridding him of his pants quick enough as he rounded his plump butt and pushed down, the mop of black hair in the rear yanking at the legs and throwing the offending material across the room. Thank goodness he hated underwear; Dante watched his erection breathe in the cold air, hissing and licking his lips at the lone digit outlining the throbbing veins that grew with every stroke. There was no limit to the size he could achieve, reflecting his degree of horniness with every thrust and no individual had bared the brunt of his full potential as of yet, finding it near impossible to drive him to the point of no return and have him driving some poor soul into the mattress and wall alike, impaling their insides so severely in his inexorable search to discover the untouched area of ultimate pleasure. The two in the room had gotten him further than any other, edging closer and closer to the threshold of his sanity each time they had sex. Together, his brother and Lars were a formidable team that worked him to the bone in attaining what he sought out, recently coming close more than a few times.

He kissed Dante on the neck and moved to the opposite side of the bed, sitting on the edge and piloting the other man to stand between his spread legs. "I'm glad." The smooth skin on Lars' belly was within tonguing distance; the elder brother sunk his teeth into the bundle of nerves under his navel as he felt perilously close to his own vices standing in attention. "He needs a reward, doesn't he?"

Vergil had no intention of waiting for an answer to his hypothetic question, encasing Lars' tip in his saliva and rubbing his tongue on the skin of his tip. The victim's head lolled back at the wonder that was his mouth, his hands having a mind of their own in clamping into his broad shoulders, not wanting to overstep in pulling at his hair even though the situation called for it; he finally opened his eyes and observed the rest of his penis vanishing into him, with him tilting his head to suck at his balls. Vergil's hands encircled his ass and drew him closer, his hardening member taking a backseat to the unbelievable sensations he was capturing between his lips. Lars' eyes shot open and his green orbs were shrouded in a gloomy black, unhurriedly clouding both his eyes over as the hybrid relieved control on his frame, the sticky substance hanging between the tip of his tongue and Lars' member. "On your knees, princess." Air discharged from his lungs as Vergil bit his inner left thigh. "It's been a while since I've fucked that mouth of yours."

The pair of black eyes obeyed, wrenching his legs further apart as he snaked to his knees and lined up with his penis perfectly. He made himself comfortable on the edge as his pale hand stuck out like a sore thumb against his black locks, moving with the forward motions of his head as he began sucking Vergil; he'd been waiting for this all day, having Lars' mouth on him while he descended to lunacy – the man's triggered state possessed an added extra: hundreds of cartilage spikes of varying size covered his tongue as well as the depth of his throat, generating sensations humans could only dream of and it was his ultimate weakness, the bendable protrusions adjusting to his swelling contours and compelling more blood into the organ. His continued strokes on the length made him weak, resting his body weight on his left arm behind him and holding the back of Lars' head with his right, revelling in the sweet tinge of the sharp points the further he pushed into his mouth, the man below keeping his stare on the satisfied hybrid and meeting every thrust with a flick of his pronged appendage.

Lars' gaze flicked to a form behind Vergil, stalking his snarling prey and kneeling behind him, breaking their electric gaze and jerking his head back by means of a big hand under his jaw; Dante overtook his mouth in a matter of seconds, halting his body in focusing on the commotion above and below. He moaned into the kiss in time with the wet strokes between his legs, soon losing every ounce of discipline over his form as he fell back into the sheets, his brother breaking the kiss for a split second to grab him under his arms and shift him closer to the middle of the bed. The creatures at either end of him nodded to one another: Dante mounted him, his thighs on either side of his face as Vergil curled his grip, fondling the supple skin of his posterior and plunged his length into his mouth by his own command; through clenched teeth a savage howl came from the younger twin, barely catching himself from falling forward at the unexpected intensity of his brother's hunger. On the other end Lars scaled the bed, his devilish gaze replaced with his usual emerald stare curtained by the sweaty, unruly strands undone by Vergil; Dante sustained his deepening thrusts while grabbing the back of his brother's knees, working up his calves and planting them into the bed on either side of his body by a vice grip on his ankles. He worked the blood back into his erection and readied his tip at his entrance only to be stopped by a single gesture from his partner, nudging his head upward for one last taste before he dived into his tightness; he leaned between Vergil's legs and bit at the stiff skin and held it amid his lips, giving reason for the rest of the fluid to come to his aroused aid.

Dante could feel the very moment Lars penetrated him, the constricting muscles in his neck softening at the relaxation of his entire body under the strong invasion; this made way for him to thrust graver into his mouth, his chest surging at being balls deep at the ease of the movements of his shaft. The twin kept his eyes on Lars' moves, emulating them above as they stirred in sync and shared a smile at the shaking body beneath, both moving faster with no mercy or remorse. The pair gazed deep onto each other's eyes as their bodies dictated their depth and pace, carefully observing and alternating between deeper and smaller strokes, quick bursts and slower charges, and finally embedding their pleasure centres so deep inside Vergil he had no option other than to take it like a man, holding their positions for seconds at a time for him to really feel their aches and pains with every shove, their heartbeats erratic and echoing down the respective hole they ventured.

The younger gave his brother a chance to breathe, moving along his body and catching Lars in a celebratory kiss; the latter maintained his stance at the other end, relatively close to his own release and returned it, closing the gap as much as he could to tighten the muscles around his thumping member. "He's gotten bigger," Dante said, tipping his head toward Vergil and receiving a gaping mouth in response – he looked like he had reached his peak, his hand unable to handle the usual grasp on him.

Only Lars could see that they were now in deep trouble, pulling out and stepping back as the elder claimed his bearings after the ceased assault. "And now one of you is going to fucking get it." Vergil's arms were around his brother's waist before he had the chance to react, crashing his back into the headboard and making him cry out in unadulterated decadence; the display of raw sexuality only peeked its rare head when he was at his limit, unable to control his actions and words owing to his demon partially taking the reins to provide his mate with the best sexual encounter possible, utilising everything to his advantage and reducing the man on the receiving end to a pile of horny rubble with not a drop of oxygen in his lungs. Unfortunately for him, Lars had come across this phase once before and it kept him out of work for a week; the burst of strength that came with the transition was to be feared and revered, taking on the urges of two supernatural beasts at once that may skew your scale of balance and process of thinking overall – this type of thing was something you added to your resume… if you survived.

Vergil was on him like a bee to its honey, pinning him down in the sexiest manner. "Would you mind giving us a second, Lars? I need to teach my little brother a lesson." He was going to be fucked raw; he could see and smell it a mile away, never before seeing his brother in such a frenzied state – the hybrid flinched as Vergil parted his legs as wide as it could go, slowly dragging his nails on the exposed skin on his thighs and causing Dante's pupils to dilate to the furthest degree.

Lars counted his lucky stars he managed to move in time and he wouldn't dare disobey him while his demon was in the driver's seat. "I'll prepare the tea and ice packs for when you are done."

Tea?

Ice packs?

Fuck.

His fate was sealed as the bedroom door closed behind the lucky fucker, leaving the space for Dante's sake. "You don't have to do this."

"I don't, but when I start you'll be begging me not to stop." The younger accepted his fate then and there, stilling his squirming body in just wanting to get it over and done with; he'd enjoy it as much as his body would allow, and until then he'd just have to grit his teeth and deal with the rest when the time came. Vergil sucked his fingers and pinched his brother's tip, coercing a deep breath from him; Dante wrapped his arms around his sibling's neck as he faced his fate head on with a slow, calculated tongue entering his mouth the same instant he pushed into him – deathly, painfully, ruefully slow – his body adjusting to the new size and widening the deeper he ventured, his face contorting to reflect the immense pleasure he was experiencing with his hands on Vergil's ass pushing him further into his arched back, his rolled eyes matching his open mouth; he'd grown in length and girth, no longer needing to angle his thrusts owing to every single one filling Dante in just the right way.

The curve in his back was hard to get rid of, crunching the duvet in his hands at how good it felt to be filled to capacity; no room for anything extra, each one of Vergil's attacks bringing him extremely close to the hugest orgasm in his life. "What did I say? You can't get enough of me, brother." He used his bent back as his own benefit, folding himself over Dante while buried inside him. "Rest assured I'll make you scream my name and fuck you long after you've come." It was one hundred percent Vergil, his demon probably focusing on the prominent lower half of his body; he pulled out quickly and thrust into his poor body, wiggling his hips to taunt the space he had expanded to cater his recently acquired size and licking his lips at how well his brother was responding to him. "You're a big boy, Dante; you can handle it."

Fuck, he was so deep; Vergil laid on top of him and moved his legs to hook around his waist, starting the long and perilous adventure that would probably end in more than squeaky yelps being shed; he couldn't have been more right as the first wave of thrusts came, so intense it shook the bed with them as they bounced along the springs and all Dante could do was hold on tight, hoping the sounds to leave his chest wouldn't wake the surrounding neighbours.

Downstairs, Lars was hard at work preparing the only remedy Vergil believed in: four cups of boiled water, the half of a freshly squeezed lemon, and four cups of organic tart cherry juice. For good measure he set the sparkling grape juice in the freezer to chill quickly next to the freezing ice packs. He combined and stirred the contents in a coffee plunger for easy pouring, hovering over the concoction with the honey and attempting to guess how much to add. The usual one teaspoon was the recommended dosage but did nothing to sweeten the sour mix. He reached for a teaspoon in the drawer in front of him; in the process of measuring out a single dose, Vergil's bedroom screeched a line of profanities that would make any pirate proud, followed by a masculine, deep, resounding scream that was surely heard by the hordes of both heaven and hell alike, the broken trail of smaller moans abruptly muffled by his or his brother's hand. Lars could hear he struggled to keep his composure under the incredible pressure Vergil bestowed in him, doing his best to roll with the punches – well, it was one punch: one glorious, thick, pulsing, thrusting, deliciously intoxicating punch – and doing surprisingly well for his first time.

"Yep," he agreed with himself, tossing the teaspoon back into the drawer and just squeezing how much he thought would be fitting for the demon.

Upstairs the twins maintained a steady pace, slowing from Vergil's initial ambush to a more easy, readable speed that Dante could anticipate; that in itself hadn't bettered the atmosphere, with the elder still pounding into him and stretching his walls beyond comparison to anything he'd endured until now, still on his back hitting the headboard and his lungs still burning from the groans that had to escape. The mountain of pillows behind him did little to sooth the rhythmic pattern as he hit the wood in full force, feeling Vergil in his entirety as his girth pummelled him into a mushy mess. It was time; he wouldn't hold out much longer without the succour of his inner demon to take over and undergo the rest of the ride home, or at least until he thought he had his fill. Dante pulled him by the arms and flattened his palms on the headboard as he slinked into the pillows, lifting Vergil out of harm's way as a thick, long, scaly, crimson tail burst from underneath him; the younger's ceruleans hazed over in violet as four untamed fangs grew from his mouth; his soft hands leisurely covered themselves in a coat of flaked, hardened skin up the crook of his elbow. From past occurrences, his demon had learned to shield Dante's windpipe all the way up his neck and halting beneath his jaw; Vergil could still penetrate the skin if need be but by fangs only, not by the habitual choking he'd grown accustomed to. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologise, he's ready to come out as well." Vergil rested his forehead on his brother's as the sound of splintering wood shattered the quiet evening air, the skin tearing from his arms to accompany the shimmering navy flesh that had replaced it; a deep, rich grunt was forced from his chest as his pointed tail floundered into the mix, floating above his head like a scorpion on heat. As with the scales around Dante's neck, the twin had the tradition of digging deep trenches down the length of Vergil's back; the precautious blue demon screened the massive expanse of skin all the way over the back of his shoulders, joining the scales at his forearms. Nothing could prepare them for what was going to happen next, the end of the transformation offering them full control of their bodies and unimaginable possibilities of equal parts irrevocable pain and undeniable pleasure.

Dante drew first blood biting deep into his collarbone, signalling that the red inner fiend accepted the daunting challenge; he began splitting flesh at vital pinpoints as they healed instantly, initiating the cycle of unending dizziness and confusion throughout the most brutal sex both of them would ever be involved in. The bloody nipping sent the blue stronger demon backward in his tracks, receding on the bed for Dante's tall body to be tensed to capacity before nuzzling between his legs and dragging him along the sheets with a death grasp on his ankles.

In a strange turn of events, Dante's tail wrapped itself around Vergil's hips and the latter's own found solace around the younger's neck with the very tip perched across his mouth. He aligned his erection with his entrance, looking up at his sibling and making a gnawing motion with his mouth. "You might need it."

"How considerate-" The heightened sensitivity at the presence of their demons was something he'd completely forgotten, the first thrust rippling inside him uncomfortably as Vergil buried himself to the hilt, releasing the grip on his ankles and resting his body weight on his elbows strategically positioned on either side of Dante's head; his eyes opened in a purple flash, sparks of electricity flying between their entwined bodies as the twin dipped his head, feeling peckish at the moving scales on his younger brother's neck. One deep breath later and the incessant pounding began, both twins shuddering at the new experience with every thrust ripping them further and further away from everything they supposedly knew about one another.

Within seconds, a sneer so poisonous erupted on Vergil's face as he felt Dante's hands on his ass as the trademark arch to his back came and passed – his giveaway that he was in pure bliss but in no way would indulge in vocalising the feat to the one who commanded his orgasm – while pushing him deeper into the tight, swollen space. Moving the tip of Vergil's tail, the man pursed his lips in invitation, taunting the face above him in the best way possible; captivated in the most sensual kiss they'd ever share, the blue demon thrust his hips forward, tilting upward to support the entry of his thickening base alongside a feral snarl into his broad chest quickly muffled by the piece of him that Dante wouldn't have predicted needing to use so quickly.

* * *

Nero opened his bathroom door and ruffled his wet hair in an attempt to get the last bits of moisture from his scalp with a medium sized towel wrapped on his waist. His head turned to where you were meant to be, greeted by bunched linen and a vague silhouette of where you once were. You cleared your throat, standing with a hairdryer in your hands at the foot of the bed because of the short cord and the awkward position of one of three outlets in his entire room. You gave up looking for a brush, not sure whether he had one, and opted for a strangling look of 'you better get our ass here quickly or else'. "I don't need that."

The decision had already been made; how could he not see that? "You're not getting a cold."

"I don't get colds."

"And I won't let you start now." His hair was dripping onto his bulging, powerful chest and you caught yourself gawking at the wet trails it left on his milky skin. "Dry your hair a bit more then it won't take as long."

It was hard to believe he walked out with soaking wet shoulders and only one towel; that conundrum was immediately solved as you observed him from a distance plucking the fold-over, unknotting in seconds and throwing it over his head like the cocky little shit he was; every step toward you was torture as your core tensed the closer he ventured, taking absolutely no effort in doing anything other than doing what you asked him to. How could someone turn you on by walking? Granted, it was who was doing the walking that had everything to do with it, but still – why? Of course, he was stark naked as well, pulling faces as he stood in front of you while drying his hair daring you to make a move or a snide comment. But you were stronger, weren't you? That delicious body only threw you off a little; it was his face that spoke volumes, a self-satisfied gloat as his clamped his tongue in his teeth. Nero sat on the edge of the bed where you were looking like a saint with the white towel on his head. "Will you let me touch you now?"

"Will you sit still until I'm done?" He scrunched his face as if he was planning to say no; curling his bottom lip like he was denied his favourite flavour of ice cream he nodded, weighing up his options of how it would count in his favour. "Then yes," you said, holding up a finger at the darting pair of hands about to attack your stomach. "Let me get the back first, and then you can do as you wish."

He had to get up for this, but much to his dismay ended up submitting to your orders, moving his head to angles he never thought possible until they were dry; you knew one deep breath wasn't enough to prepare you for what was coming – not two seconds after moving in front of him to tackle the leftover strands was he on you, not caring of your pricey underwear while cleaving at the sides and having the elastic flick you on the hips; yeah, this was pretty much the reaction you were expecting, sad at the short-lived existence of your panties. You wanted to show that it didn't bother you in the least and carried on as if nothing happened, so close to the finish line until he had to go and make things harder… literally; your hands innocently raked through for any part of his head that you'd missed and interrupted by his unremitting need to pull his top over his head and assault your bare chest – more specifically, your breasts and nipples – with his hands around your back pushing you into his mouth. You had to drop the hairdryer at your feet in fear of breaking the unused object, using the pads of your feet to kick it against the wall unit out of danger.

He arched your back into him, inadvertently causing you sit on his lap; a hazardous feat owing to the lower half of your body now unclothed by his undoing, leaving you wide open for any punishment he wished. Shallow, timed breaths were forced in as he bit hard on his desired pressure points, moaning as he did so and inflicted ripples of his craving to flow through your body willingly, your toes curling at the sensations that came from nowhere. You took the opportunity at him not being able to see you, raising your arms and scratching your scalp with your true intention on display for no one to see, your mouth gaping as he sucked and sucked, rubbing your back in tandem with his exploits across your chest and deliberately leading your sex to his. "You gonna be a good girl and let me make love to you now?"

At least he asked this time; not that you answer would make a difference, but he asked. It was a step in the right direction. "Will you be gentle?"

How he'd managed to swap your positions on the bed was a mystery for another day as his baby blues peeked out of the hem of his shirt, supporting your back as you sat at an awkward angle. "Hell no."

"Then yes." From there he removed the insulting grey fibres over your head and tossed it close to his hairdryer.

"You might want to move, honey. I need all the space I can get." His eyes were on fire, keeping you in his sights as you moved higher up and got comfy at the pillows; he hunted your naked body on all fours, stealthily riling you up with every step, feeling the weighted dips move nearer intensifying your anticipation to the moves he'd planned inside his beautiful mind. "You're going to have to forgive me for this one." Without so much as a warning he mirrored your previous actions, jabbing his face into the tingly skin under your navel, the soft caresses of his tongue feeling the manner in which your muscles constricted under his devotion; the heaves of your chest grew the lower he descended, utilising the breadth of his jaw to open your legs for a snugger fit than before.

"You ready for me, princess?" You nodded, but you weren't, made all the more evident by you covering your face with one of the loose pillows at your head the moment he licked over your folds as a courtesy, propelling his tongue into you and having your hands grasp air before tearing into the feathers and flinging it nonsensically, knowing only to keep the bottom half of your frame dead still as Nero worked his wet magic on your walls. He stopped suddenly, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs and all around your entrance, one last bated, hot moan into your folds before he flipped you over with the rest of your body following on confusion as he steadied your knees on the bed, alluring your hips upward and toward him. The kiss down your spine told you all you needed to know, keeping your head in its position at the futility of fighting to hold it up; the bringer gripped your hair in place as Nero nuzzled into the small of your back, marking your skin in bruised, flaming love bites. You claimed a pillow and held it to your chest, needing something to bite more than his sheets could handle; you hid your head in the soft feathers to muffle a groan as your eyes rolled into your skull, his tongue doing the justice you so rightfully deserve.

He opened your cheeks for your arousal to breathe, and on full display for him and him alone as he wreaked biased havoc on the entire area between your legs. The arc to your back deepened, supporting his endeavours as much as your anatomy would allow while he dragged with his tongue bits of orgasm left untouched by your prior efforts. "This started on all fours, and that's how it'll end."

* * *

With Vergil's hunger finally sated, he set his brother mildly into the castle of pillows in his attempt to detach from him, wanting to induce as little pain as possible. Dante's body jerked at the retraction, watching his sibling pull out gradually and effortlessly from his body, his erection returning to its former, societal-approved bulk; he stayed on his back, feeling the internal damage being repaired almost instantly and grinning from ear to ear. "I guess I owe you one."

Vergil ascended to lie next to him, smoothing his hair out of his face. "You owe me a few."

He smirked. "A few it is then." Dante received the softest flurry of kisses on his lips, those damn frosted orbs glaring at him persuasively and demolishing what portion of his rationality he had left. "How do you feel?"

He raised himself on his elbows and stole a quick peck. "I've just had the best sex of my life; how do you think I feel?"

"I meant pain wise." Vergil turned his body to him and he did the same, flushing their bare skin and sneaking his arm under his older brother's head.

"That's not important right now; the real question is how long will I have to wait for that to happen again?"

Their afterglow was truly something to behold, the twins radiant in their post-coital intimacy; they were in their warily constructed bubble of fluff unable to get enough of one another a short period of time succeeding their lovemaking, wrapping themselves in a mix of their inebriating scents while continuing the flow of their demonic sexual energy by constant movements, naughty and otherwise. "A really, really long time."

Dante shuffled closer to him, disliking the indescribably tiny space between them and draping Vergil's leg over his body, filling the gap with his own shoved between the elder's legs. "I'll ask Lars to fill in then."

"Good luck breathing after that one."

"What do you mean? Did you not see what I just survived?"

Vergil gave him a single raised eyebrow, climbing into his colossal chest. "Dante, Lars is an incubus: a pure-bred sex demon. We are half-demons who don't specifically specialise in anything; he was born to fuck you to death. I'm not too sure if he has killed before, but everyone who's walked away intact left with more than a few battle scars. What just happened now is nothing compared to what he is capable of." They were so close they could taste each other – there was no stopping him; Vergil opened his mouth to speak and it was quickly overtaken, holding a conversation he wasn't interested in having. There was one thing on his mind and his brother was painfully aware of it, but hurt him again he would not, even though Dante had just taken a fat chance in straddling him in their immeasurable state of arousal and growling into his neck. Vergil liked that; he liked that very much.

The twin on top snuggled between his brother's legs splaying his identical form over him. "Now how do I trigger him?"

Dante was swimming in dangerous waters; Vergil was most sensitive at his neck, and directly following a sexual endeavour of this calibre was asking for a round two of a painstakingly methodical knock to every level of your consciousness. Nevertheless, and because it was Dante, he gave him more room to explore while tugging at his silver locks, his other hand entwined and crushing his brother's. "He's… always triggered… but he's extremely powerful… when it comes to self-control… It takes… quite a bit… to get him in the mood… and even more so for him to… reach… the state of thirty seven… non-stop hours of penetration… That's his rec- HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU EXPECTING ME TO SPEAK, YOU IDIOT?"

"I'm not." Vergil groaned into his exploits wishing his brother didn't know him as well as he did, his chest inflating at the pressure to keeping his immense satisfaction far away from his brother's ears; the faintest misstep or breath out of place was reason enough to start something neither of them was ready for. "You never have to answer me when I'm trying to seduce you, but it is fun when you step up to the plate." Dante sat up on the bed and pulled his brother with him, fluffing his hair as a handsome smile shrouded his face whilst crashing their lips in blinded ecstasy, infiltrating the twin's psyche at its deepest level; he toyed with his sibling's helplessness at not taking full command of the situation sooner, cradling the creamy form to slot between his legs and trailing the pads of his fingers along the taut contours that twisted under staggering muscle he so easily concealed behind layers upon layers of clothing.

The twins were on the verge of their boiling point when a knock sounded on the door. "Is it over?"

"It went quiet didn't it?" Vergil liked teasing how vocal Dante was in bed, secretly revelling in the thought that he could overthrow his twin amid the sheets.

Lars crossed the threshold with a tray of the promised tea and bottle of grape juice and three glasses; setting it down on Vergil's desk, he snuck a glance at the pair on the bed still staring at one another with the strangest question he'd ever ask dangling in front of his eyes. "How are you sitting?"

"It wasn't that bad." Dante turned to him as he graciously poured it for them. "I hear you can do worse."

Gosh, what had Vergil told him? Was the comment to rile him up or had the elder spilled the beans? Either way no harm done, apart from the damage he might have to cause come the month of October. "Much worse, but I don't like to blow my own horn. I have you two to do that for me."

If they weren't brothers, Lars might be slightly jealous at Dante for the way Vergil looked at him; simple yet filled with unimaginable intrigue, fixated on raw power and the undeniable strength they shared owing to their heritage, and his overall aura that mixed perfectly with his own to create this hypnotic scent that spiralled anyone who came near into a daydream of unprecedented awe, with the two most delectable beings on the other side holding the reins to your own psychological expiry and toying with the very idea of what it meant to be human.

To watch them detach from one another was the end of a sad love story, focused with two cups of tea in hand; the meticulousness of their being in sync left no stone unturned, no boundary untouched, and the elder left little that went noticed to the naked eye. Lars brought the tea over to the pair that had covered themselves decently, Dante passing Vergil's over to him and holding the other for him to get comfortable on the bed. "I wonder how Nero's doing."

He'd outdone himself this time, both of them laughing at the subtle hint of extra honey he'd included for the pain. "He's fine – more than fine, I'd say."

Dante and Lars shared a look, Vergil known for his silence upon any matter than held no concern to him directly. "You getting jealous there, Vergil?"

"Oh please, this is the wrong tree to be barking up." The level of care he harboured for Nero was matched only by the two beings who currently shared the room with him; he was an unanticipated breath of fresh air for the routine lives the twins had grown used to. Reflecting on the events of the day, he was honestly proud at the way things had gone and just relieved that she wasn't someone he'd made up. After two years of hearing very much and seeing even less, Vergil had become worried that she was a figment of his imagination brought upon by the traumatic after effects of the depression. Today was a step in the right direction for their little one, a step that they'd been waiting for and for a very long time.

Lars finished his tea and moved into the juice which held a healthy chunk of antioxidants that would keep him running for the rest of the night. "It's obvious she worships the ground he walks on." And it was typical for him to comprehend the situation so much better than his half-demonic counterparts. "They've been playing this game for a while now, him more than her, and getting to see that small taste did open my eyes a little; like, seeing the two of them together made sense, given the snippets he allowed us to know. She was his best kept secret, and it's most likely he was waiting for today for us to piece the puzzle for ourselves instead of having to listen to his stories day and night. He could never tell a story properly." He really couldn't; whenever it came to her his flustered frustrations took the better of him and his words jumbled profusely, making him more embarrassed whereby he ended up either leaving the room or changing the topic only to have the three relentlessly beat the details out of him for good measure. "They are good together. They weigh each other out. She's the right level of crazy to dissolve his craziness in, something like that."

Dante nodded along with him, half of his tea gone and regretting the other half he still had to swallow. "He's in good hands, Verge. Stop worrying."

"I'll never stop worrying, Dante, you know that."

The younger twin pursed his lips and gave Lars a steely glance before shifting to the edge of the bed. "After tonight, I can guarantee you that you won't have to." Now the pain was catching up with him; throwing his legs over the edge seemed more tender than he remembered, and something as trivial as the bedsheets should in no way cause the severe friction that it did. He motioned to stand, able to climb and stabilising himself on his legs before laughing his heart out at his sudden predicament; neither bothered to help – it wasn't in their nature – and elected to stare instead, much on display to ogle over on both his front and back.

It was only when he began making progress did Lars choose to ask of his actions as he poured himself more tea to suffocate through yet knowing that whatever was inside was going to work. "Where are you going?"

Lars was genuinely absorbed in his question; Vergil, however, took the opportunity of his swindling attention to place his cup on the dresser next to him and clamber over to where he sat at the end of the bed. "Giving you space – you don't like a third wheel."

"Those aren't my words-" The hybrid caught him completely unawares, capping the bottle in his hands and tossing it to Dante lifting his frame to more suitable position on the bed. Vergil wouldn't forget, would he? His late arrival merely meant their 'special' time be bumped a few hours forward, not caring that he was mid conversation with someone else while he ravaged the skin on his back as he was persuasively pushed forward to distribute the remainder of his body weight onto his arms. "I said it makes me uneasy having to look at someone who isn't taking part in the… ummm…" Two guesses why the words weren't coming to him… "-festivities."

Lars reached behind him; two guesses as to what he was doing. "That's why I'm-"

"You don't have to." Vergil pressed into him long and hard without hesitation, pulling the incubus closer by his hips and burying his shaft inside the demon, giving him a run for his money. "Tell you what; I'll get him to trigger and you can have a feel of that tongue of his." The brothers looked at him for confirmation and received an eager nod in return, unable to speak owing to his gaping mouth replicating the size of how far he was being stretched. "Be warned – overstimulation is what he's known for; I can't have you soiling his reputation. Just his throat and mouth."

He leaned back on his arms and pushed forward with his sultry hips sending a shockwave of carnality up Lars' spine and feeling him slowly trigger down the length of his erection. "As good as that offer sounds, I think I'm safer downstairs-"

"Do what I tell you and get on your back." Dante couldn't resist him in this state; the glorified stare of a madman in the middle of fucking someone's brains out was difficult to walk past, made even more so by the fact that what he was doing wasn't walking. Vergil pulled him close and rushed a tongue his way, kissing him sloppily but moving him away from the bedroom door. "It won't hurt."

Lars did his part, wrapping his arm around his ridiculously solid upper thighs and arranging him perfectly on the expanse of the sheets; those black orbs had surfaced once again, honing no control as they dipped between his legs painfully slow followed by an unparalleled view of his tongue as he stuck it out to graze his tip. The hybrid curved his back in astonishment at the flexible cartilage, massaging large masses of blood into his penis at an alarming speed; the activities behind him distracted him none, merely moaning with hot breath as Vergil managed to burrow deeper, the vibrations more than heavenly on Dante's taut skin. "Lucky for you he loves me in my triggered state; I could be sucking your dick for a while." His black eyes watched his reaction as his spikey throat constricted around his tip and his lips clamped around his base, hiding the inner workings of the erratic organ rendering him to a whimpering pile of personified sex.

That was fine with him.

* * *

Nero left you breathless on your stomach clutching onto a pillow for your dear life; tiny beads of sweat formed at your scalp in your futility at trying to keep yourself together while he kept spreading you beyond your stretch, flicking his tongue over and in your sex until you were raw with need, relief overflowing your aching limbs when he straightened you on the bed to still your maniacal heart and lungs. Butterfly kisses traversed the skin on your back, prickling with every touch of his supple lips and tingling to all the way down to your happy place. Gods forbid you needed more tingle between your legs to fuel that cursed fire within.

But something was wrong; even as he laid his body flush against yours you could sense a change to the air, miles away from anything bad but still strange nonetheless. The contact had stopped altogether and you turned your head to watch his hands crunch at the sheets, something he rarely did when he was either on edge, nervous, or on the brink of tears; every outcome made no sense, so what other option did you have other than to turn and face the brooding mess in the hopes of cracking his code? You looked into his ocean blues with worry etched in the creases for no reason at all, his beaming smile quickly melting your skeletal structure which you couldn't help but return albeit out of pure confusion. A soft kiss to your mouth proved that he was indeed okay, moving the stray strands from his face for a view money couldn't buy. "I have something for you."

Nero pecked your forehead and moved to the edge close to his dresser. "It's long overdue, but…" From your position as you could see was him opening the drawer and moving an assortment of papers and flyers, tapping the sheets next to him as a sign for you to join him; you were excited to the third degree and scared to the second, inertly crossing your fingers, eyes, and toes it wasn't as big a deal as he made it out to be. He had never gotten nervous to give you presents before now, but the concern with which he moved raised the hairs on your neck to the importance of this one in particular; you tried a peek to what he was looking for, leaning across his chest with an unforeseen shining grin plastered on your face and getting the feeling it was going to be there for a while. "I've been hiding this from you for three years; I think it's time for you to have it."

Three years? What gift could he have possibly bought that lasted three years? In that moment you were somewhat grateful it wasn't chocolate, but any of your best guesses at this point would be fruitless: had anything in your possession even lasted three years? Besides your clothes and furniture – not all the pieces, unfortunately – nothing fit the category, and you realised your mind had meandered to your own special oblivion when his hand on your back woke you from your overthinking state with part of his claw hidden deep inside the drawer. "Should I be scared?" you asked, hoping he took the bait to your useless attempt at a mind game that may reveal something about what was hidden in that drawer.

Nero turned his head and kissed you on your cheek. "Do you love me?"

No way you'd ever tire from hearing him say it. "I do."

You felt giddy as you saw his hand move toward you, your smile quickly fading upon the small white box that had appeared. "Then no." No, your mind wasn't going to get the better of you; no, it isn't at all what it appeared; and no, he wouldn't do something like this. But that was his strong suit: pure unpredictability in the eleventh hour and catching you off guard enough to sweep your knees from under you. The blue glow beneath gave it an ethereal touch, the luminous clue to the depth of what was within its confines as you tried to hide your happiness as much as you could. "I'm calling it a place keeper for now, until you're ready."

You were going to milk this, weren't you? And now more than ever, you were certain that petite cube hadn't concealed a pair of diamond earrings. "Ready for what?"

"To be with me forever." He popped it open with a minuscule flick of his claw, holding it out for you to see while his human hand rubbed across your shoulders: set entirely in white gold, the diamond in the middle nestled between two stray strands of the luxurious metal on either side of it; five smaller diamonds were wedged comfortably in the gold on either side of the strands, meeting to form the rest of the band in smooth silver. "To make me your husband; to wake up with me watching you sleep; to let me spoil you for sixty more birthdays; to run you baths when you've had a long day, to cook your dinner when you're too tired to, to give you massages when the people at work stress you out too much. I don't want to miss my chance to make you happy, or at least try to. I want to spend the rest of my life proving that I am worthy of being at your side." Nero pulled the ring out of its place and handed it to you by the band, nearly missing the tiny inscription on the inside of it: 'protocol 242'. You smiled as you ran through your list that Nero had you memorise, hiding in the recesses of your memory since you were 10. _We're screwed._

Twirling it between your hands seemed surreal at best, taking the attention away from the growing lump in your throat at the immediacy of the events that had led up to this moment; it was just a day ago that he'd finally come clean about how he felt for you, giving no means to retaliate and make him work for all the years he's made you suffer alone – it didn't matter, not now nor would it ever, looking at the ring of white that was practically made for you and fighting with yourself to keep the tears at bay. An emotional wreck you were most certainly not, but this was too much to stomach in one evening. You kept your head low as he continued his heartfelt plea to you, even shuffling closer to your naked body in an attempt to feel what you were feeling, not resisting a kiss to your temple. "That ring is a promise to protect you, to serve you, and to honour you as my significant other; I will be by your side as long as you need me, fighting for you all the way, making my name proud to be called yours. I will spend every minute of our time together falling in love with you more and more until my heart is ready to burst from my chest and into your hands where it rightfully belongs – where it's belonged all our lives." He took it from you and held it at the shell, ready to slide it onto your finger when you gave your answer. "If you accept this and wear it for the world to see, my life is yours from now until my last breath. I want to be yours, love, and I want you to be mine."

And there it was: the words you'd wanted to hear for as long as you could remember being said by the only true key to your heart. Your mind and body had taken and ungodly turn into a void untouched; the one you had forgotten existed until now when you were able to sample together its true meaning, feeling yourself slowly being sucked into a bright light that peered beyond the darkness of your never-ending belief that he was too good for you, shielding off forks amidst paths of endless possibility that allowed your own happiness to push through and grant you that extra grain of hope in the notion that maybe, just maybe, you'd strike it lucky and have him look at you with those penetrating blue eyes in a manner not only subjected between the lines of friendship. Oh, the days that had flown by when all you wanted to do was hold his hand, the countless hours spent doing homework and projects together, building you as a couple with a solid foundation for something more – whatever it may have been – and finally you were given your shot; here and now, nothing else mattered – it was just you and him to face the rest of the world together, fortifying the deep bond that you shared since your age ranged in single digits. Without command, tears had fallen onto your legs from nowhere, the lump in your throat prevailing as you endured what could easily and will forever be the best moment of your existence.

You were in such a haze that all you could do was stare at it glinting in his clutches while he tried to sooth the shock from your frame, knowing the answer he was going to get yet still revelling in the opportunity to hear you say it. Nero laid his head on your shoulder, forcing you to brave a gaze in his direction whilst internally falling apart piece by piece, his soft features popping the cherry on top of the ordeal you'd happily relive repeatedly. "Will you?"

Your try at responding was made worse by him setting his forehead against yours, being cute as hell and knowing it was killing you slowly from the inside out. With a gentle clear of your throat, an inaudible and hoarse 'yes' mumbled past your lips, another tear slipping through the cracks of your crumbling state. You tried a second time, nodding along to make it loud and clear for him in the hopes of ridding your mind of the fluffy pink cloud that came from the depths of your struggling chest.

The hand on you back disappeared to support your left as he slid the ring onto your finger; as you guessed it fit perfectly, clicking your true reality into place in taking one step closer to the comforting future Nero had set right before your very eyes. "You mean everything to me; I really want you to know that."

There mere fact that he was staring into your soul as he said those words were enough to set you on fire from the inside out, making your heart skip a beat with the added burden of searching for air to fill your lungs; his hands found your jaw and tilted your head to suit his level with no shame in sating his hunger in your mouth, beginning gently and leisurely working toward a tempo worthy of the elation he was experiencing, sneaking in adorable smiles in the times you mentally swore against the need for oxygen and returning his affection with equal vivacity while striving to internalise it all. He lingered on your lips some more, taking control of the kiss in its last stages and wiping away the two lone tracks down your cheeks, chuckling lightly as he kissed them softly and watched your entire face alter to an unsullied magenta. "Plus, now I can finally take you on a proper date."

The thought of being on a date with him prickled all the way to your core, knowing the slivers of romantics he kept hidden deep within his psyche. "What was today then?"

Nero squished his face in mock deep thought, looking to the ceiling and pouting his lips, earning a giggle from you that hauled your subconscious into its current state of reality; if you'd known better, you'd swear he was on the verge of tears as well, a small glisten to his eyes as the light hit him at the right angle as he contemplated a category for today's activities. "We can call it… meeting your soon-to-be brothers-in-law."

"I like that," you say, kissing him on his jaw and trailing to his shoulder, hearing his breath hitch as you sauntered to the tingly area under his ear and using your teeth and tongue to gently punish him for his friskiness earlier; Nero subtly grasped your neck and held you in place as you moved his silver strands away from your designated area, with him not-so-secretly moving his head to the opposite side to give you more room to play with. Even worse was the bite to his shoulder, compelling a fulfilling, undoing breath to seep from his lips, gripping your hair with both his hands as each carried out the opposing action of push and tug, needing freedom from your enthusiasm while soaking it all up for as long as it would last, allowing his eyes to roll in their sockets until he couldn't take it anymore.

You pulled him flat onto the bed and straddled his tummy to tease the other side of his neck, rendering him to whimpering chaos across the sheets in appreciation of his body, sucking and nipping and marking unashamedly marking the territory that now wholly belonged to you. You moaned into his skin, his only available reaction to voice his gratitude some more and claw at whatever parts of you his quivering hands could grab, turning his head in your direction for you to stop and thanking your mutual stubbornness for not giving in so easily. "What are you doing?"

You had hit a vital point with your incisor, causing his hips to involuntarily jolt upward. "I'm basking in the moment, Nero."

He had had just about enough, sitting up straight and carrying you in his arms to your previous position on the bed, dropping you like a hot potato on the duvet and ruthlessly splitting your legs while sinking between them. "Bask later; I'm still making love to you." Nero traced the length of your arms with his hands, entwining your fingers and raising them above your head as he stretched you to your limit, nestling his tip comfortably at your entrance as he looked deep into your eyes and thrust forward, mutual convulsions wracking your frames from the new meaning it will now take, holding you gaze and coyly kissing your lips repeatedly in time with his hastening thrusts; soft and lingering with his deeper strokes, adding his tongue to the mix for the quicker brushes along your walls until he collapsed on top of you and loosened the grip on your hands, moving them over his neck as they snaked behind your back.

He breathed deep in your ear, echoing through your brittle form in a futile effort to prepare you for what was to come; he secured his knees on either side of your body locking your legs into place around his back and paced a slow, pulsating plunge along your throbbing walls, constricting his spine to hold his position and stay embedded in you, allowing you to feel all of him and his unearthly glory beating and expanding in your tight heat. You knew you were in trouble when your legs started shaking uncontrollably, moaning between your teeth at his immobile state of unparalleled power moulding you to his outright arousal; you were in a fitting position to steal a peek at the ring on your finger as it crunched his strands of the same colour, smiling at the knowledge of savouring the many days left of eternity for you to share, the moment quickly short-lived by yet another growl stemming from his mouth as he pulled you into his chest…

…yet another thing you could look forward to for the rest of your life…


End file.
